If I Let You Go
by Lietus Zephyranthes
Summary: Alfred F. Jones, a seemingly optimistic American is finding out about the truth behind his family's past; while Arthur Kirkland, in search of himself, running away from his dark past. Some family theme initially. Expect lots of character development, comedy/drama along the journey of these huge dorks. USUK Modern AU, will be rated M later on.
1. Chapter 1: My Life Before You

_**This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to factual details is purely coincidental.** **Also Himaruya owns Hetalia and not me** (sadly)._

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><p>*~*~*~[Monday, London, UK]~*~*~*<p>

"Kirkland, I need you for a second." A low voice, muffled behind the glassy office door of room 24, 2rd floor of Albion Law Firm.

"Yes, Mr. Edelstein."

Arthur stood up from his seat in cubicle and walked toward the attorney's room. Today had been rather slow and he had just finished emailing the last client 15 minutes ago. He was glad to finally have something to do, passing the quiet time at the office. Mr. Edelstein was definitely a strict man, but for a lawyer, he was quite forgiving and doesn't boss Arthur around... as much as when he first got this job. You could even say he was rather tolerable, if not for the fit he throws whenever he encounter too many difficult cases with spiteful clients, drowning him in stress. One thing Arthur admired about the man, other than the tidiness and devotion to his work, however unrelated, is how he would play the piano from time to time, usually when he was thinking.

He could be a great performer if not for his prickly attitude, Arthur guessed.

Arthur grabbed the hand knob, when his expression softened at the streaming melodious notes from behind the door. He walked in as the Austrian continued to play, undisturbed.

"The printer," muttered the pianist nonchalantly as he fell back to a slower pace, his eyes closed.

Arthur picked up the still warm stack of papers.

"Will and other processing papers from an old mentor I have. He's in the hospital right now... and I've heard from his secretary that he might not make it through this month," the man gradually stopped playing and glanced up at Arthur, who was now standing next to the desk, flipping through the papers.

"Just organise the lots and that should be it for today," he sighed and then continued to play on. "Also, can you call Elizabeta for me? Tell her I'll be home a bit late. I'm going to visit the man after work."

"Yes sir." Arthur met the Austrian's eyes and mumbled some condolences words. Then he quickly removed himself from the room to give the man some space. He would appreciate that, the Englishman thought. Working with him for 4 years had taught the young man more than enough.

He picked up the desk phone and dialed in Elizabeta's number. It was only 3 in the afternoon so she was probably still in class.

"Hullo, teach. Am I disrupting class?" Arthur delivered smoothly into the receiver.

"Hello boy! It's cool. School, you know, free discussion time." Elizabeta's voice came with a cheery laugh. Arthur couldn't help but smile when he talks to her.

"You are doing fine, teach. Just don't carry _that_ around too often." Arthur said with a small laugh as he divided the papers into small stacks.

"What? Oh _that_. No, I've gotta have it around to whip you boys into studying. You've got to know at least that much, Arthur!" The Hungarian said with a wink in her voice.

Arthur spluttered at the comment. "Please, don't mention me in any of your "_discussions_", is all I'm asking."

"No worry, sweetie. Your secret is safe with me. I'm not going to mention any... _names_," she giggled.

Arthur could feel his face heating up in embarrassment at the thought of his old teacher gathering her high school kids up in a little group for a "story time" about his awful wild school days. "... Thanks, teach." He mouthed, clearly with a sarcastic tone.

"You are welcome! But enough about me, how's work?"

'_Yup. She's definitely getting a kick out of this_,' Arthur seemed to cried internally.

"Fine, fine. A bit slow these days, but that's what to be expected after the recession this fall, I suppose" Arthur picked up his tea cup and walked to the cupboard behind him. "That reminds me. Your husband's going to be a bit late today. Going to the hospital to visit an old mentor of his whom recently fell ill."

The older woman sighed into the receptor with worries. "Alright, tell him to take care... About Roderich, is he doing fine at work these days? I mean he never tell me anything..."

"Nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe he's playing the piano more these days, maybe not." Arthur sipped on the hot tea and sat down again.

"Really? That's a relief. But yeah... we rarely converse much about work related things, as least he doesn't. I guess I'm just thinking too much then."

"I'll keep an eye on him, if you need me to." Arthur leaned back on his chair. Mrs. Eliz usually have good intuition, but who know.

"Thank you so much Arthur. You are such a sweet kid. Sometimes I wonder if you are actually godsend, really." Elizabeta laughed lightly.

"It's nothing compare to how much I owe you both." Arthur closed his eyes and gave a small laugh himself. He felt like such a kid, talking to his teacher like this.

"No, you are more than we could ever ask for. I would have adopted you a long time ago if you weren't so against it."

"Ugh no way, teach. We are barely... What? 5 years apart. And don't remind me of _that_ either." Arthur could feel cold sweat on the back of his neck. His teacher was not the most friendly and warmhearted person in the world, despite her sweet words. Arthur knew she was being sincere, she still is, but sometimes... you couldn't tell.

"You are so hard to love, kiddo." Now she was starting to pout. Great.

"I'm not a kid. And teach, you've left your real kids hanging for a while." Arthur rushed as he looked at the watch that said 3:24. He shuddered, suddenly remembered that Elizabeta can go for hours once she have entered that mode. "I'll talk to you another time. Have a good afternoon!"

This time she snapped out of it quite fast. Arthur guessed the worries were getting to her after all.

"Alright poppet. You too." She uttered softly and disconnected.

*~*~*~*[Meanwhile]~*~*~*

"Hello. My name is Linda Sturluson and I'm making this call on behalf of Mr. Kennedy Jones, as his secretary. I reckon you are Ms. Moriah Jones?"

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><p>*~*~*[10 AM, New York, US]~*~*~*<p>

Alfred woke up startled by an unusually chicken noise screeching in his ear.

"Matthew Williams! You little shit!" he screamed in rage. Its definitely him, that brat.

He had stayed up until 5 again last night. Okay, it wasn't anything in particular, he just couldn't sleep after browsing some horror stuffs online, but he's too embarrassed to say that of course. However, the loss of sleep was getting to him. The boy crawled out of his room, ready to get Matthew, who was innocently sitting at the breakfast table. The light outside was almost blinding, it delayed his train of already insufficient thoughts.

"Good morning, brother!" Matt smiled from his book as Alfred rummaged around, his hand on the wall, trying to get to the kid in the bright light.

"No, you bastard! What was that alarm for? And who opened all the windows?" He shut his eyes tightly as he stumbled out, his head spinning, groping around for balance.

"I got your breakfast. Please go wash your face, Al." Matt flashed him the most charming smile he had got and pointed at the table.

Alfred, with his sight finally focused, or as focused as he can be without glasses anyway, followed its direction. His mouth watered at the sight of that unusually perfect breakfast in front of him, Big Macs, extra-large pizza, fries, soda and various desserts.

Ugh, the sly kid've got him. Alfred was battling his inner voices, to hit the dude then go wash his face, or the wash his face then give Matt a bashing. He finally settled for the third choice, which would be go wash his face, then come back to eat that breakfast, then we settle the inevitable extra violent assault.

"You..." He murmured, scratching his back as he made his way to the bathroom. Behind him, a Matthew's clearly giggling.

When Alfred got back, he noticed that Mom was already there, sitting on the sofa, watching the news like she had been there since forever. He found it hard to trust that women no matter how cool she is sometimes. Well, most of the time. But isn't that how all parents are like. He even thought she was some secret CIA agent when he was a kid. So he ran over to the table as she continued to focus on some world political report. "Nibbling" on his favorite pepperoni pizza (yes, the entire pizza. Slices are for the weak!), Alfred's face lit up with happiness. Then he went back to his brother who was contently sipping his favorite maple syrup tea in front of him. Dude is totally fine with that sickening sweet stuff.

"Mattie what's up with the chicken alarm anyway? You usually don't even care if I sleep in until 12..." Alfred mumbled through his second burger.

"Max sent me the ringtone yesterday," he chuckled at Alfred's expression. "That was fun!"

"Not for me..." Alfred yawned, grabbing the soda. "And all these food? So I don't set you on fire?"

"Yup," Matt chortled, his shoulder shaking slightly. He was usually so cute and sweet, like right now too but... Alfred needed to talk to that Max.

"Hey Mom!" Alfred jumped over to the sofa and gave her an affectionate hug as he tried to cuddle under the warm blanket. She just smiled at the big baby and kissed him on the forehead.

"Morning Alfred. Finally noticing me? I was getting lonely you know." she sulked.

"Anything interesting on the news?" Alfred pouted his lips.

"Nothing much, dear... I might just go and grab a bite." She yawned. "Did Alfred leave anything, Matthew dear?"

"He didn't touch the croissants and pancakes." Matt listed out as he glanced up in his glasses.

"HEY! I wouldn't just gobble up the whole table!" Alfred yelled, his voice muffled by the warm blanket.

Suddenly a ringing sound cut through the conversation. Moriah walked slowly to the kitchen counter and picked up her cell phone.

"Hello," she spoke softly into the receiver with a sweet voice. Alfred had always like listening to his mom's voice on TV. She was the local newscaster on channel 12. But of course he loved it more in person.

"Y-yes." she stuttered. "...How may I help you?"

Alfred pulled the 3DS out from under the sofa cushion, where he hid it yesterday afternoon before falling asleep. Matt caught him in the act and stared at him with wide eyes. He just grinned at the younger boy and stuck his tongue out. Matt just sighed and shook his head in disapproval.

"What happened to him?" the woman gasped loudly. Her hand clapped over mouth as her shoulder began to shake.

This got the attention of the two boys. Matt looked over her with concerned eyes while Alfred just stared at her back in surprise. Then they both quiet down as the women continued her short responses, leaning her arm on the counter. Finally, the mother put down the cell phone and stood there in silent, her hands clutching to her arms.

"What's wrong, Mom?" Alfred asked.

Startled, Moriah turned her head back. Then she walked over to the kitchen table with Alfred following her. She exhaled a soft sigh, which quickly broke into a contained sob.

"Your dad... is in the hospital... They said he might not make it through this month."

~oOo~

Arthur ended up bringing the papers home because he needed to look through them. Being a legal secretary is not just answering calls, composing emails, and making coffee after all. He pulled the tan covert trench coat over his brown suit and stepped outside. The air was a bit colder than he expected, being still indoor. He could see light on from the passing offices. Mr. Edelstein had just left a few minutes ago. Then out of nowhere, his old friend, Kiku Honda, was approaching and giving him a small wave.

"Good afternoon, Arthur. How do you do?" The man said politely with a slight bow.

"Hullo, Kiku. Long time no see. I'm fine. You're alright?" Arthur smiled at him.

Arthur was a tad bit concerned about why Kiku's here but it would be rude to ask, especially if it's related to getting a lawyer, he thought.

As if noticing the curious glance from the Englishman, Kiku spoke up. "I started working at this law firm as a secretary a few days ago. I thought I would pay you a visit soon but if you are in a hurry then I wish not to inconvenient you."

Arthur's eyes grew wider and he let out a small grin. "Kiku, that's great new! We can see each other more often now. And I'm in no hurry. We can go somewhere and catch up right now, if you want."

"No, it's quite alright. We can talk anytime. But are you sure you'd be alright like that?" Kiku said, his hand pointed to the window.

It was raining steadily outside. Arthur didn't even notice since the building was sound-proofed. More like he hadn't been paying much attention to the weather at all, and expected it to be chilly like this morning.

"Oh bugger. I forgot my umbrella at home." Arthur groaned, face-palmed.

"You can use one of mine if you want to. I always have extras around in case someone needs them. It's winter after all." Kiku offered.

"Really? Thank you, Kiku, you are a lifesaver. I don't even want to think about running to the tube in this weather." Arthur patted Kiku's shoulder, giving him his best thankful face.

"It's fine, really. How is work?"

They walked together to Kiku's office. It was a rather short walk, practically two or three rooms down the hall.

Arthur paused a bit, and then sighed. "Nothing out of the ordinary, I guess. It was rather fun at first, I had something to do and it would earn me enough money for a living. But after 4 years, I'm not sure. It's a great job. I just..."

"You want to be an editor."

"Yes—wait! How did you... Oh, right. Gilbert must have told you." Arthur guessed. The Prussian would be the only one who'd bother to bring the Englishman up in any conversation at all.

"Yes. I frequent the pub quite often." Kiku opened the door and walked in.

"Kiku?" a voice came from behind the attorney office's door.

"Yes Mr. Karpusi. Do you need anything? I thought you were about to leave." Kiku pulled a blue umbrella out from the basket cupboard and handed to Arthur.

A man walked out from behind the door. Arthur remembered seeing him around the past months but he never had the chance to talk to him. Okay, that didn't justify anything but it's the usual for Arthur.

"Nothing much. Hello there. A friend?" The older man asked as he noticed Arthur's presence next to Kiku.

"A pleasure to meet you. My name is Arthur Kirkland. I work with Mr. Roderich, room 24." Arthur offered the man his hand.

"You too, I'm Heracles Karpusi. I'm sorta new around here I guess." The man spoke in a husky, almost sleepy voice as he shook Arthur's hand. Then he turned to Kiku with lazy eyes."I was going to ask if you are free this evening. I got some tickets for this nearby museum. Heard they have cats. Want to come?"

"Thank you for inviting me. And yes, that sounds great. I don't have anything important tonight." Kiku said looked up at the older man.

"Then I'll get going. I'll talk to you another time, Kiku." Arthur waved. "Thanks again for the umbrella. You two have a good time."

Arthur strolled out on a high note, headed for the lift. He was glad Kiku had finally settled down with a new job. The lad had not been himself after he broke up with his ex-boyfriend over some trivial matter. He was so devastated and heart-broken, he went out drinking every night. Arthur was secretly glad that his friend didn't take it further; he wasn't the promiscuous type of guy. That aside, Kiku dating alone was hard enough, judging by how committed he can be in a relationship, Arthur guessed.

By the time Arthur got out of the building, it was already getting dark. The rain was still pounding on the pavement. Arthur used to really like rain. It used to make him feel refreshed and lively. Now he just laughed alone thinking about it. How fitting. It was just like his mood these days, dark and gloomy. He found himself thanking everyone around him again and again. Not that it's a bad thing, it's great. If not for them, he would have dropped off the Earth and just... die in some dirty corner in this London. It's just that... Arthur tried to snap out of his moody self as he stepped on the tube. He sat down on an empty seat and made himself comfortable, snuggling into his coat's collar.

'A 15 minute ride isn't that long. Don't fucking fall asleep...' Arthur reminded himself, though his eyes seems to act otherwise.

~oOo~

The atmosphere inside the house was darkening at a steady rate. Alfred's cheerful mood was long gone. He tried to chase his thoughts by letting his eyes wander to the TV screen that was still flashing, when Mom finally breached through the sinking silent.

"What should I do..." she managed through the sobs. Matthew was right beside her, patting her back, his expression more somber than Alfred could remember.

"It's alright Mom. Everything will be fine..." He replied, trying to hide the cold from his voice. He simply refused to believe that he was hearing about his dad, the man who had abandoned them, after so many years, would try to contact them at all.

Alfred had had a warm loving family. He simply couldn't ask for more from such warm-hearted parents, a cute little brother, how the four of them would go on picnic or amusement park every Sunday. Just like a bomb went off, he disappeared from their life. That man had turned his back on them and left without a word 10 years ago. As a 9 years old at that time, Alfred couldn't understand it. His family was torn apart, too fast for him to even comprehend everything. Not much was said between mom and dad, no fight, nothing; except for the fact that he left them with the old house in California, which his mom sold off not long afterward and moved back to her hometown, to Rochester of New York; and a long phone call to mom a few weeks after. He didn't object to her selling the house at all, and Alfred knew that he couldn't ask for anything more than for his mom to stop drinking and neglecting her health after weeks of sleepless nights. Matthew was only one year smaller than him, and he could only remember the small stifled cries and sniffs from the lower bunk bed most nights.

They eventually found out much later in Alfred's years that the man was the second son of a large corporation in London, and after their supposedly uncle passed away in a car crash, he was to replace the man to keep the business running. The truth came out like those sappy dramas of a story book. Even after that, he knew the old memories pricking his heart were not going to simply fade away. More than just a big gap in the family, Alfred could see changes in himself to prove just how much the man's disappearance affected him. Thinking back, he never knew why his parents weren't divorced despite the fact that they were not living together, and hadn't even kept in touch. And they could have just all moved to England instead of being separated. Or were there something else that Alfred didn't know?

Too many questions went unanswered.

And now this.

"Mom, isn't there something else you want to tell us?" Alfred turned his head. He looked straight at his mom with unwavering gaze. Finally there was a chance to talk this out, and he wasn't going to miss it. "Anything at all?"

Both Moriah and Matthew were startled by his tone. Alfred rarely sound like that at all. Moriah had only seen him like that twice, and she remembered it clearly. It was... around 6th grade, when he first persisted her about his dad's whereabouts. Another time was when he came back from school 2 years ago and locked himself up in the room all evening. Moriah averted her eyes, then slowly, she straighten up a little bit.

"You are right." She said, eyes still wandering on the white linen table cloth as though she had never seen anything so peculiar before. "I kept this from you both all these time. I knew that I'd have to tell you someday. I wish it didn't have to come so soon."

"Your dad found out he had... lung cancer that year. It was on the brink of stage 2. Then when the opportunity came, he fled to England. I only found out about it all through a phone call. He said that he might have less than 5 years to live... and he didn't want to make us go through it... And how... he wanted us to end it and look for a new life, a better life. I couldn't... I didn't... I'm sorry...," she burst out in tears again and sobbed on the table.

Alfred simply froze at his mom's words. He couldn't say anything. He looked up at Matthew, who was in complete shock as well. How? All these years, they simply guessed and guessed. His dad left them because he had cancer? How did mom live with all these bottled up inside her? And they didn't divorce or remarried, Alfred furrowed his brows at the thought. 10 years. Not even a letter.

"It's not your fault, Mom."

Matthew draped his arm over the frail-looking woman.

Alfred could only sit there; his emotion boiling in his stomach as all sounds seems to have drained from the room. It was not until after Matthew left for work that he finally snapped out of it and found himself sitting on the sofa again with a blanket over him.

~oOo~

Arthur finally got home after missing the stop, again. He got out his keys, a mint flying bunny chain attached to it, and quickly made his way into the small flat. He should really learn his lesson since it happened almost every time he dozed off on the tube, he sighed. After making a mental note to return Kiku's umbrella, now lying neatly in the basket with Arthur's many other umbrellas, Arthur stepped out of his shoes and hung up his coat. He found himself in his comfortable unicorn slippers and Peter Pan pajamas not long after, boiling water for a cup of piping hot tea. The idea of tea inside in such a night really warmed him up. It had been a while since he actually had work to bring home. Most nights, he would just do some embroidery, head to the pub, or study. He's still a part-time college undergrad, but he felt just like an old man. Arthur was barely 23. He was somewhat content with his life right now though. He has a job that pay generously, a flat that's not too expensive, and money saved up. The only thing left that kept him thinking was probably his future. He didn't want to be a secretary for the rest of his life. But he had planned not to over a year ago by entering the uni. and focus on his journalism major. Something was left out, it seemed. Probably nothing important.

Arthur walked leisurely back to the couch with a cup of chamomile tea on his right hand, unfinished documents on his left.

"Hmm... Kennedy Jones... where have I heard that name before..."

"Wow, the amount of zeroes... to Moriah Jones and his two sons... Alfred F. Jones, Matthew Williams -wait, Williams?" Arthur raised his brows, wondering if he just read that wrong. But no, it's clearly there black on white.

With a piqued curiosity, Arthur flipped through some of the last pages he had. Then one thing hit him.

"Oh. American... Right."

With his interest lost, Arthur hurried through the papers. It was not the first time he had organized wills. It's a first time he had seen the Austrian cared that much though.

After the paperwork was done in smaller manila folders, he stood up and stretched a little. Looking outside through the glass window as he finished his third cuppa, he noticed how the rain had stopped. It was 9 and he didn't feel like having supper. Screw supper then, he thought. Then he mentally hit himself for his old habit. Another day went by. He's content with life, yet he's not. In the end, Arthur forced himself to snap out of this circle of stupidity and just go to bed early for a change.

*~*~*~[That afternoon, US]~*~*~*

Alfred woke up again after falling asleep on the sofa thinking. He didn't feel like he could take it any longer dwelling into Mom's word. It was just too soon to change his mind and how he had viewed his dad all these years. Too sudden. Matt had gone to his part-time at a nearby flower shop, he usually have the Sunday shifts since he'd be busy with classes for most of the week. Mom wasn't in the house, which she usually wasn't anyway. She only had the weekend off and was usually spent with friends or the neighbors. It was around 3 in the afternoon as he pocketed his phone and was out for a walk. His life had been a mess of indecisions. Most of it was for Mom and Matt. He had studied hard in high school, and 3 years ago graduated the same time with Matt over some weird competition with his smart brother. But after that, his mind was like a train wreck, going about what he really wanted to do. First he thought he wanted to serve his country, be in the military or marine. He didn't though. If he left, his family would be just Mom and his brother. He didn't want that, he didn't want to leave them, and somehow, the image of dad's back would appear in his mind. Then he wanted to be a police officer. It was just... honorable and it would still be serving his country. It would give him great pride just knowing he's protecting his community. But he was a 17 years old fresh out of high school. Seventeen. Some other states allowed 18 years old to be a small ranking officer. But not his. 21 would be it. He finally settled for going to college for an associate in the meantime. The work load just didn't cut it though. He didn't feel like he was doing enough. So he took a friend's offer of working part-time at a repair shop, trains and tractors, that sorta thing. Now that he was out of school, he worked full time at the shop on weekdays. Strolling on the slightly crowded street, the cold nibbling at his jacket, he encountered some signs and billboards. Christmas was only weeks away, again.

It was 7 before he could notice. Alfred hurried back home, hoping that everyone wasn't already there. He caught up with Mattie at the door, as they both hurried in when they saw Mom from behind the counter.

"Hello boys. Ready for dinner?" His Mom smiled looking up from some roasted chicken freshly baked right out of the oven.

They both answered in unison, which really made their mother happy even after all these years of hearing them.

It was a great dinner, they chatted about their days, how Maria, Mom's best friend's daughter was pregnant again; and how Lars, the flower shop's owner tripped over some tulips and had spent his entire afternoon crying and apologizing to it. All was good, but of course things that happened never just go away like that.

"After some thinking, I had come to this decision." Their mother said with a bright smile as the boys were finishing up." We are going to England."

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><p><em>[to be continued...]<em>

_My first fanfic ever. I hope I did okay for an opening. And a side note, I'm following this story through and through, with as much love as I have for UsUk, so don't even worry about me abandoning it okay? :) (this basically means I will try not to but eventually have to update irregularly, break schedules etc, also... some really cool fanfics I've read are unfinished for years and I'm so sad, I just had to say it)_

_Link to the chicken alarm thing: tiny url dot com (slash) lnmnvpr_

__Please review? (Any review at all would make me extremely happy!)__

_Coming up next with some possible fluff moments * v *_


	2. Chapter 2: First Encounter

**_This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to factual details is purely coincidental. Also Hetalia's not mine._**

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><p>It started snowing for this first time this winter. With roughly a few weeks left before Christmas, they started packing for the trip to England.<p>

A few weeks until next year. A few days until he get to meet his dad again. Then Alfred guessed any minute might just be the last together. Alfred was not in any way ready for all these. So was his family it seemed. Mom kept staring off in the distance and Matt was forgetting stuffs as he read off the list of things they would need, assuming that they would stay at least 2 months.

It would be the first time they leave the states too. Alfred bit his lips as he sat on his unmade bed, trying to stuff some clothes in his cabin bag without breaking it somehow. Wherever he's going, he would need some winter wears and those weren't exactly light. They were informed of dad's condition 2 days ago, got the emergency travel paperwork through yesterday and his visa would be here this afternoon or so. The urgent process was unexpectedly smooth for them, even though it was during the end of the year peak period. Mom had booked the tickets that day and they would get on the plane tomorrow. Of course they called off work and informed the relatives as well so someone would take care of the house while they are gone. The only things left to do were packing, and wait. Alfred was going to explode over the frustration of not being able to cram his favorite jacket inside when Matt walked in.

"You know, if you want, you can wear that to the airport?"

Alfred plopped onto the bed at Matthew's voice from the door.

"Too tired for this." he whined. "Are you done over there, Mattie?"

"I think. I've got Mom to help me with the clothes this morning, since we were packing together. I only need to get a few things in my room..."

"You're not bringing that teddy bear with you, right?"

Alfred's mention startled the Canadian, which was plenty to confirm that it was exactly what he was looking for.

"Eh... why not? I can't just leave Kuragino here..." Matthew mumbled his face troubled as he walked faster to his room.

"It's Kumajirou." Alfred sighed with a small chuckle. Matthew is still Matthew.

Then it hit him. "Hey, why is Mom helping you? Why not me too?"

"As I said—" Matthew sighed and was about to repeat before he got cut in.

"Yes, Alfred sweetheart. I'm right here. You should have woke up a bit sooner." His Mom was just outside of his door now. Though she looked a bit tired, she knew better than to trust Alfred with his clothes, as sad as it sound. And her hunch was just right, as the cabin bag was about to break even when it was unzipped and socks were hanging out of the small pockets.

"YAHOO! Thanks a bunch Mom! Anything I can do, other than that?" Alfred asked sweetly, now that he was free of the horrendous task, which made his Mom laughed.

"Can you go make some tags for the luggage? I would need them in case anything goes wrong and we can't find the bags. Just put my name and our address— wait, actually. Hang on."

She stood up and went out to the kitchen table. Their paperwork was all there, and would probably go into a smaller bag so they can board the plane and get through the custody smoothly.

"Here, write this address down." Mom pulled out a small note from a small pocket of her purse nearby.

"Who is this Linda?" Alfred looked over the note Mom gave him.

"His secretary, the one who called."

"Oh." Alfred's mind clicked. That person. Of course he didn't expect Dad to call Mom, that's not even physically possible.

"By the way, use that." Mom pointed at the hard poster board in the corner. "Print paper probably won't last, I think."

He snuck a Sharpie and scissor along with the poster board and hurried after her.

On his way back, they spotted a Matthew hanging out at his door.

"Things are going fine over there, dear? Did you find whatever it is?" Mom asked with fondness in her eyes.

"Eh, yes. Hey, Mom... I might need a little bit help though..."

"What is it dear?"

They walked in his room. It was... different from Alfred's room. Much different in fact. Everything was in order and tidy. His cabin bag was already packed and the carry-on bag was organized on his bed.

"There's not enough space for Kurasino... And it would go over the weight limit anyway..." He picked up the bear from the table and gave it a hug.

"Won't the phone strap do?" Moriah smiled sadly at him. Usually, Matthew would carry a smaller version of the bear around, the custom made phone strap of Kumajirou.

"But I can't sleep without him." He looked like he was about to tear up right then.

"Why don't you carry it in another bag then?" Alfred finally spoke up to save the situation. The bear was not that big anyway. He could feel the other two's stare and it was making him a bit uncomfortable.

"Eh... there's a limit on how much you can carry by hand though..."

Dammit. His suggestion went down the drain that easy. And he tried even though he had this intense dislike toward that evil teddy bear Matt have had for years.

"What the heck Matt? Your stuffs can't possibly be that heavy. Lemme see." Alfred laughed and jumped on the bed, started unzipping the luggage excitedly.

"Wait! You can't—"

"What is this? Maple syrup? And 3 big bottles to boot." Alfred yelled out loud before Matt could do anything.

"You plan to carry these?" his Mom was now looking at him with concerned eyes.

"I found another in his carry-on bag, too." Alfred was not laughing anymore. Wow, dude have this huge obsession over maple syrup, he didn't even know there were that many bottles stocked in his house.

"I just... I won't survive without them..." Matthew answered softly, avoided their stares.

"Matthew, there is maple syrup in the U.K. I'm sure." his Mom patted his shoulder." You can carry one if you must, but leave the rest and we should have enough space for your bear."

"Okay..." He said dejectedly, putting 3 bottles back in his closet.

The she left to finish the mess in Alfred's room.

"I'm sure you'll be fine Mattie. People can't die over not drinking maple syrup." Alfred zipped the bags back and smiled at the sad boy. That earned him a pretty heated glare from the smaller brother.

The room had gotten much colder than he thought. As Alfred walked out, he could swear he saw the bear making grim face at him from the table.

He suddenly got another idea as ran over to Matt again.

"Hey Mattie, want me to sneak one over there for you? I should have some space if it's just one bottle."

"You would do that?" Alfred could see the enlarging pupils in those violet eyes.

"Of course! Anything for my little brother." Alfred laughed and grabbed the one bottle that was still in Matthew's hand.

"Thank you so much, Alfred!" The Canadian's cheerful mood was back and that made Alfred feel much better too.

He walked out in high spirit, didn't forget to hide the bottle from Mom.

"When are we leaving again, Mom?" Alfred hurried back in his room.

"We leave at 5 in the morning, though the flight won't be until 6: 45. We should be there around 6 in the evening."

His Mom was refolding everything he had in the bag. Alfred put the bottle under his pillow and sat down at his desk and started cutting the board to the right size. It was silent between them again.

"Do you think he want us to visit him?"

"... I don't know, Alfred."

"Do you want to see him?"

"I do."

"Me too then."

*~oO(15:12)Oo~*

It wasn't long until everything was in place. Alfred checked the house for anything he might have forgotten again. Mom had got the renewed visa and some hygiene stuffs like toothbrushes and towels. As they sat down at the table, their luggage in the corner of the house, they put the paper work in the manila folders and were ready for a break to eat. Matt ordered 2 pizzas, one for Alfred, the other for the two.

"Somehow it doesn't feel like we are leaving at all..." Matthew smiled, looking a bit sad.

"We'll be back in a flash. It's not like forever ya know." Alfred said, sitting down.

"Do you think the food in the fridge will be fine?" Mom glanced back in concern. Though they would have their aunt take care of the house, they would probably shut down the gas, water and electric since no one would be using it.

"There's still food in the fridge?" Matthew gasped.

"Not as much since I didn't go shopping that Sunday, but yes, milk, ice cream and some frozen desserts... yogurt, Alfred's frozen pizza, your maple syrup.. That's about it I think. The food on the cabinet probably won't be expired." She uttered nervously. "Giving it to the neighbor would be kinda awkward, but I don't want to throw away the lots."

"Think Max would clean the place out for us? I think he would." Alfred laughed. The Canadian didn't like the idea, but Max probably would... as long as it has nothing to do with Alfred. Well, what he doesn't know won't hurt him, the pizza was untouched anyway.

"I'll text him over this evening anyway." Matt said as he picked up another slice. "Aren't you going to tell Natalia or Ivan?"

"Natalia maybe. Ivan no. Why?" Alfred drank his soda and looked up at Matt. They were the siblings living a block away that the brothers used to go to school with. Ivan and Alfred was quite some enemy in middle school, but who know, they might have become friends somehow. Maybe not. But Natalia was sorta his adopted sister a while back. She's pretty cool to talk to, most of it was trashing Ivan, but that kinda blurred out over the year too and now they mostly talk about rock music. She would go on trips with the two brothers to historical places and tours, which usually turn out badly with her occult view freaking everyone out. He visited the Russian kids from times to time now to spar with Ivan and borrow rock CDs from Natalia.

"Don't you have to return some CDs to Natalia then? I found them lying sloppily on your bookshelf."

Oh shit. No kidding, the girl would be furious and come "knocking" on their door if Alfred didn't return the CD after a month from the day he borrowed them.

"I'll go visit them this evening... By the way Mom, I'll probably drop by Toris's place on the way." Alfred was more close to Toris. He was probably the only other person Alfred was in talking term with. Toris is pretty easy to get along with and is probably the nicest guy in the neighborhood. But he've got the worst luck, having to put up with Ivan and Alfred's continuous fight years back. The poor guy was also stuck with this annoying but extremely shy Polish dude he met from the uni.

"It's fine, tell him I said hello. And be back before late okay? You would need your sleep to wake up early for tomorrow's flight." she smiled at him.

"No problem, Mom!"

* * *

><p>*~oO(London)Oo~*<p>

"Oi Gil. The usual if you please." He beckoned at the bartender as he slipped on his usual seat at the left corner of the pub, loosening his tie a little.

Gilbert turned to the Brit and laughed even louder.

"Hey it's Arthur! How have you been, not drinking your arse off for a whole week? Missing my awesomeness?" He said with a small wink.

"Bugger off mate. Pour the drink. Long day." Arthur sighed at the albino, who was literally dancing around on his feet.

"Whatever dude, I'm totally awesome. Here ya go, my awesome drink." A cup of red wine slid from the Prussian's hand to Arthur. Then he went off laughing maniacally again with some friends. Arthur sighed again as he catch the drink, wondering why he still frequent this pub. Or why he was that guy's friend in the first place. Then there's the whole complicated story about how they met multiple times involving Roderich and Elizabeta that are too long to even think of. Suddenly someone came up and quietly sat down next to him.

"Hello Arthur. Good to see you here."

Arthur turned to his side to find Kiku with a small drink on his hand. The Japanese had obviously been here for a while already.

"Hey Kiku. Alright?" They usually see each other at the pub so it didn't even surprise him anymore.

"I'm fine. What about you?"

"Thursday... been a freakishly long day, I don't know what else to tell you... But that aside, how's the new job going?"

Arthur was particularly interested in knowing how the Japanese man have been, working under the new lawyer. He saw them the other day out in the hall, and they seemed to be in some heated conversation, it would have seemed impolite to cut in.

"It's alright. I'm still trying to learn some new things here and there, but I get general idea on most of them. Heracles had been pretty cooperative and helped me out a lot." Kiku looked at the drink, a small smile about to play on his lips.

"How was the date to the museum the other day?" Arthur suggested, teasingly.

"It was fun— wait no, it was not a date at all!" Kiku blushed, waving his hand trying to reject the idea. "They had this cat festival with arts and cat figurines... it was very cute. Though Heracles bought a lot of souvenirs. Got me a cat too..."

"Really? That sounds wonderful." Arthur chuckled at the image of two grown men carrying too many plushy cats on their arm. He then smirked to himself while looking at how red in the face his friend was.

"DID I JUST HEAR ABOUT KIKU HOOKING UP WITH SOMEONE?" The loud Prussian popped into their conversation uninvited and made a ridiculous statement.

The pub was rather local and most people are regular, which earned them even more attention. Kiku was now on the table with his head down on the countertop. Arthur couldn't do much more but smile apologetically as he gave Kiku a light pat on the shoulder, then turned to Gil and gave him a shuddering silent F finger with the most forceful smile he could pull. Stupid Albino, messing up his scheme of possibly being a future Cupid.

He got himself a fourth drink as Kiku left, then he noticed something about the music. The pub was playing some classical for once, considering that the owner wouldn't stop playing his rock music almost nonstop, all day, every day. Arthur adores rock. But a change was nice too, he guessed.

After his seventh glass, he noticed again that the music changed yet again. Is Gilbert okay? He couldn't have gotten drunk himself, right? And jazz now?

* * *

><p>*~oO[A few hours ago, London]Oo~*<p>

Alfred hopped down the plane, while the other two dragged their feet from the long trip and raging headaches. He mostly slept the entire time listening to music, woke up for lunch, which wasn't all that bad, watched this odd movie about bunnies on the mini-tv, then fell asleep again.

"You alright Mom? I'll get that." Alfred leaped before her and took the cabin bags from the carousel. Mattie was hanging on there; he just walked a bit more slow as he tried to adjust after the flight.

At the welcome area, they spotted the secretary in no time, a mature-looking, young woman with brunette hair in a small bun, blue eyes, and dark blue uniform vest. She was smiling and waving cheerfully, while 2 other men in black tuxedo carried a big welcome sign, laughing nervously at all the attention they were getting from passerby.

They got a ride to a nearby hotel, a pretty big one too, called Euphoria with ready booked rooms, 1 for Moriah and a twin room for the brothers.

"How is everyone?" Linda smiled as she walked over after she told the men to carry in the luggage.

"Thank you for the warm welcome, dear. You really didn't have to..." Moriah tried for a weak smile as she sat, exhausted. The headache from the plane really got to her, Alfred thought.

"Not at all, ma'am." She insisted. "Please get rested. I'll have the boys pick you up tomorrow for the hospital visit, if that's okay?"

"Are you sure? That would be great." Moriah smiled.

"Not a problem. Would 9:30 in the morning be okay for you?"

"Yes. Thank you. How he's doing these days?"

...

While they were talking, Alfred was helping with the luggage.

"Dude, like your tux! I'm Alfred." He smiled at the British men. Blue eyes, one brunette, another blond like Alfred, around the same height, slightly more skinny than Alfred, maybe a bit shorter, but they looked friendly enough. There's some resemblance, maybe they are brothers?

"Robert. Linda's brother." The brunette patted Alfred's shoulder.

"I'm Greg. No jet lag?" The other grinned at him.

"Nah, I'm cool. How old are you guys? You look younger up close."

"24, my brother's 21. You?" Greg nodded thoughtfully.

"Aww, 19. Thought you guys would be around my age." Alfred laughed.

They talked some more as Linda gave a short tour of the hotel on the way to their room, which they later found out, was owned by Linda's family. When they were done, Mom and Matthew sorta retired to their room for a nap. Alfred, of course, had had enough rest.

"Mom. Do you mind if I go out for a bit?" He asked as Linda and the boys were about to leave.

"Go head. You have your phone and some money right?" she said after a yawn. "Remember to adjust your watch..."

"It's alright. I'll give him a tour, ma'am. No worries!" Robert swung his arm around Alfred's shoulder and grinned.

"Linda, do you mind if I borrow your cousin for a tour around London then?" Alfred asked excitedly.

"Not at all. Take Robert. I need Greg to drive me." She laughed cheerfully. "Have fun, boys!"

"Thank you! This is gonna be awesome!" Alfred grabbed his new pal and head outside.

"So where do you wanna go first?" They got some McDonald on the way. He also gave a sidenote about the hotel being a 5 minutes walk from the London subway so that was another plus if Alfred ever wanted to go to hot spots nearby.

"I dunno. Any cool places still open around these hours?"

"Hmm... there are many... but you probably have heard of them... wait. One place I bet you never set foot in." Robert flashed a boyish grin. "Your mom is not against alcohol hopefully?"

"Nope, she's a pretty good drinker herself." Alfred said innocently, a twinge of hurt in his chest remembering the past, but it faded soon. They stood before a pub,"Preußens Kneipe".

"German?"

"Germanic, but Prussian to be exact. You are 19 if I remember it correctly? As long as your mom doesn't mind, no harm done?" Robert winked at the man.

"Yeah! But I don't wanna get drunk so just checking it out a little bit?"

"I'll hold you to it."

"I'm suppose to trust someone who just showed me a bar as the first place to visit in London." He joked.

"It's really all there is to London. People get drunk and have a good time." Robert winked."Though don't tell anyone else that. They usually get offended."

The pub is pretty old from the outside, but everything looked expensive in shiny wood with tip top condition. A big flag with a black eagle on it, probably Prussian flag, was hung near the ceiling, many iron cross was spread throughout the pub. Another flag, this time the U.K.'s, was by the right side. There wasn't many crowds of people around like Alfred had expected in a pub, but the atmosphere was pretty warming and friendly. Slow classical was in the air, which make the place even more desolated.

"Hey Robbie! Newcomer? How can I help you?" The bartender grinned, then looked (Or leer? Alfred couldn't really tell under the dim lighting) at him as they moved closer. White hair and...red eyes? Okay, one have gotta be fake. Or he's an albino, Alfred thought. That's still pretty awesome. The man was probably the owner of the place, seeing there's no other waiter or waitress around.

"Yep, he's with me. The usually for me, and a light drink, Alfred?" Robert leaned toward on the counter.

"I'll have bourbon." The American said cheerfully, which earned a slight raised brow and a pat at the back from Robert.

"Bourbon it is then! You've gotta try our beer next time though. It's the most awesome in the world!" The Prussian quickly got out the glass and popped a new bottle for the drink. "So where are you from boy?"

"New York." Alfred said, and then took a small drink. Robert left him with the man as he trailed off to talk to a friend nearby.

"Vacation?" he raised his brows.

"Something like that."

"I wouldn't mind some of that myself. But then there's this awesome pub I've got after my old man died. And my idiotic brother."

"Hmm, yeah..." In a split of a second, Alfred thought about how it would be with just Mattie and him. Great, he had just made himself sad. "Ya know, I didn't exactly have the image of a pub playing classical music though. I guess it's a British thing?" Alfred commented as he finished the drink. Not as bad as he thought it would be. He didn't even feel anything yet, which is probably a good thing.

"It's just today. I like my rock, and we all know it's awesome. Only I got blackmaile- I mean... a close friend of mine wanted me to try different things. Ya know how friends are like." the bartender's laughed, a bit forceful as he glance to the doorway. A young Japanese man, who was just leaving, returned with a slight glare.

"What's your name?"

"Gilbert Beilschmidt. Call me Gil." He resumed to his task of cleaning some cups.

"Okay then, Gil. Mind if I recommend you some music, too?" Alfred grinned through his second glass, and got out his Ipod.

"Sure, cowboy. The stuff is over there at the end of the counter. However, I'd say the chance of me listening to pop is almost never, okay?"

Alfred sneaked inside and went for the audio mixer with a bunch of cords lying around the expensive main speaker, which explained the high quality sound unlike some random coffee shop back in New York. Plugged his phone in, he searched for his jazz album. It's kinda a soft topic that he still like the old jazz and blue, but they have some pretty good ones recently too, of course.

Sophie Milman's "People Will Say We're In Love" streamed through the air at a not too loud volume. It's not yet his favorite, but that doesn't matter since Alfred usually just listen to whatever he's in the mood for.

"Oi, isn't this jazz, Gil? I didn't know you listen to tha— Oh, hey." A man stood up and looked in from the counter seat. His mesmerizing green eyes stood out most from the dark shadow his face was cast in.

"Hi. Problem?" Alfred looked up and smiled. He was not ready for criticism against his music this soon but it happens, most of the time actually.

"Not really. I just thought it's new for him to actually play anything beside rock... Where is he?" The man was now seated again, leaning on the counter. Alfred now noticed the most visible feature on his face was not his eyes after all, but his eyebrows. They are... slightly larger than normally seen, but it's kinda cute in a way, Alfred didn't know why. Maybe it's the slightly pink shade on the man's smooth skin.

A voice rang out behind them before Alfred could answer.

"Over here, I'm so disappointed that you didn't notice the absence of awesome me. I was just getting some more awesome beer." He cackled loudly as he put the crate in down beside the cabinet.

"Give me a beer, Gil." the man leaned his face on the cool wooden surface.

"You have work tomorrow don't you?"

"It'll be fine. I'm feeling just fine."

Light by Ellie Goulding started playing. Alfred almost forgot he had it on shuffles at the waiting room before the flight.

"Ah. This song." The Brit on the counter suddenly started talking again.

"Yeah?"

"It's my old teacher's favorite." he laughed lightly.

"I wouldn't have remember it if I were you." Alfred shrugged and sat down on a chair he found at the corner. Gil didn't seem to mind him, still chatting with some girl on his right hand.

"She's a special case." the man sounded almost sleepy now.

"Yeah?" Alfred got himself a cup of beer from Gil.

"She saved me."

"Hmm, yeah? Teachers are kinda cool, ya know. I had this physic teacher a while back. His class was the hardest I've had in all of my year. And somehow, I ended up being the black sheep ya know. Just because I know stuffs, because I excel his class... At the end of the year, he called me back and told me that I was his favorite student in all his years teaching, and he found me as a challenging student than just any other that wanted to pass for credit."

The man was now sitting upright, his face leaning slightly on his right palm. A goofy smile played across his red lips, or maybe that's just how things look in yellow light? Somehow, Alfred felt a little bit of tingling red too on his face. Must have been his imagination.

"My teacher used to hit me. With a frying pan."

"What the heck dude?" Alfred was a bit unsure if the man was being serious. Maybe he was too drunk?

"Death serious. I deserved it though. Bloody frying pan." The man laughed dryly. Then he gave a warm smile at Alfred.

"She was the best teacher I could ever ask for." He said softly, and then plopped onto the counter.

Alfred flinched on reflex, then smiled at the sleeping man in front of him. Then he picked up a random pen that happened to be right there next to his hand and wrote a note on the man's hand.

He pocketed his Ipod a while after and said goodbye to Gil, who just looked at the passed out man on the counter with eyes full of pity, then tried to get him on the sofa a few feet from there.

Robert was waiting for him outside, his breath fogged in the cold weather.

"Did you have a good time?" Robert glanced over. "I feel like I could have taken you to a more interesting place, not a pub anyway."

"I did have a good time though. Thanks, Robert."

"No problem. It just happened that I frequent this place. I don't even know why, since I don't live near here or anything. It's not the nicest pub around either. It just... draws you in, doesn't it?"

"Yeah." Alfred smiled broadly, thinking about how the man, who he didn't even know name of, would react in the morning at the small note.

* * *

><p>You probably won't remember<p>

but I think your teacher is great.

Hitting people with frying pan is awful though,

even if you liked it ;)

Smile more often :D

-Alfred

* * *

><p><em>[To be continued...]<em>

_A/N: Yeah sure, Robert. You are hella gay too lol :p I wasn't sure at first, but now I'd like to think Linda, Robert, Greg, are just Brits(human), so I won't dwell much more on it. Also the case for Moriah, as Americans(human). So yeah, clarifications :)_

_Song(youtube): watch?v=xGl82j74vxw_

_Tell me what you think of the story so far :) I'm also open to suggestions ya know ;)_


	3. Chapter 3: Rainy Days and Fated Meetings

_**Hetalia's not mine...**_

_I'm so sorry for the late chapter!__ But I'm sure you'd understand once you've read everything... This chapter was really hard to write due to many reasons...you'll see ; v ;_

* * *

><p>Arthur woke up to the loud noises of talking and laughing around him, which was strange, since of course he lived alone. A peek to the bright morning light, he rolled over and noticed that he was on a sofa. Probably drunk at the pub, due to how heavy his body felt and the slight migraine still persisting. An urge to vomit rose up his throat as he struggled to sit up. Something was suddenly shoved in front of him. An empty ice bowl and a cold towel... from Gil.<p>

"You better not dirty my sofa after I went through the pain of removing your disgusting vomit last time!" Gilbert stood next to him, his face going blue at the memory.

"Haha, sorry... Thanks." Arthur laughed nervously as he wiped his forehead with the towel and loosen some buttons on his shirt.

Behind him, Francis was talking to Antonio about some guy he met this morning on the street. Then he glanced over to Gilbert, who was now cleaning the tables.

"What time is it?"

"It's 7:27 in the morning. Feeling okay, _mon cher_?" The French greeted him with the usual unwanted endearment.

...

Arthur was feeling hella sick.

"Excuse me." He honestly tried to not be rude, storming fast to the bathroom while avoiding the heartbreaking scene Francis was enacting. Well, the frog better learn to give up soon or some towel was going straight down his throat. Or worse, yesterday's booze.

Arthur wasn't pissed. He was more... uncomfortable. His first impression of the flashy pâtissier hadn't been exactly great. It was horrible, really. Francis fucking grabbed his arse first thing right after they were introduced to each other like 3 years ago. After that, it had been this constant one-sided flirting thing, which didn't improve their relationship, only gave the English man the shiver and cold sweat from time to time. The man asked Arthur out for dinner several time, but of course Arthur straight out rejected him every time. Maybe he didn't exactly give the chance to get to know the man... Too bad, first impressions are pretty important and he's just going to leave it at that for now.

He was going to wash his face, hoping the horrible and troubling memories would go away. But the urge to puke came again. Ugh. He had sworn not to get drunk again and again, and it never worked out. Oh well. It could only get better after he got the excessive amount of liquor out of his system, Arthur sighed. He then proceeded to wash his face, until something blue caught his eye. What are these writings on his right palm? They were still pretty clear, but didn't save Arthur the headache trying to decipher the joined-up scribbles while his head was still spinning.

'Teacher? ...What is this about?' Arthur tried to remember last night. Nothing but hazy ...blurry ...swirls come to mind... That's not unexpected. He looked up and started to wash his face. Who was Alfred again? Sounded familiar. Last night, after Kiku left, he continued drinking... Then somewhere he heard that jazz song and... His head hurt. He decided not to dwell on the matter any longer and get the hell out of there.

"Gil, do you happen to know where my coat is?" He asked with a sigh as he made his way out. Thank god the Frenchy left, he shuddered.

"Behind the counter. You threw it off last night. Gilbird was kind enough to get me to notice it. You should be so grateful of awesome me and my chick babysitting you, Arthur." Gilbert was off to his little world again, probably. Arthur chuckled and went to retrieve the jacket.

_"Thank you."_ he said jokingly.

The man had this obsession with small chicks and it's rather cute actually. He usually carry a yellow puff to work, but sometimes, it would stay with Antonio, his best friend who happened to be a vet, for the day.

"By the way, do you happen to know who I was talking to last night?" He fixed himself a bit and put on the jacket.

"You don't remember? Hmm... He was a newbie. American. Pretty rad dude, came with Robert." Gil said seemingly as if he was reading out of a diary for something. "He probably won't be back though."

"Ah."

Arthur's mind was a bit clearer now. Another American Alfred. America better not be full of freaking Alfreds. The name isn't even that common nowadays.

"What? Did he leave you his contacts or something?" Gil smirked at the Brit and laughed loudly.

"What— No! What are you talking about?"

"Nein, it just looked like you had fun last night. Haven't seen you smile like that in ages."

"I smiled?" Arthur asked, his brows rose slightly.

"Ja."

"Oh." He shrugged, then walked out, still thinking about the odd mention. He still couldn't really remember.

"See you, Gil. Thank you for everything."

The Prussian shouted some rude remarks after him about not coming back. Silly guy. Still, Arthur was rather touched the Prussian put up with him at all.

The sun was already up now, though the cold air still lingered. Thankfully, the rain is not yet here, and Arthur needed to go home and change for work. His job at the law office won't start until 9, although he'd have to hurry for breakfast... His day hadn't had the greatest start, but who knows, it could only goes up from there. Nothing beats a small smile to oneself, he thought, thinking about the person whose face he had forgot's writings again.

* * *

><p>Alfred slept in late and didn't wake up until 8 when Mom brought him his breakfast. He was feeling sluggish, but of course he'd have to get up and get ready for the trip to Dad's. He sighed at the mention... Alfred wasn't as ready to face his dad as he thought, it seemed.<p>

"I got your clothes, too, Alfred." Mom placed the garment on Alfred's bed as he walked out from the restroom.

"Do you think I'll have time for a fast shower, Mom?" He haven't exactly bath for sometimes. Almost 2 days?... Ew.

"Hurry, hun! Keeping people waiting is rude."

"Hey Mom, I'm back." Matthew walked in, a small bag of fresh bagel in his arm and another red bag hanging at his side.

"Hello Matthew dear. How's outside?" Mom helped him with the lots.

"It's fairly nice right now. Gonna rain soon though." He put down the bread at the coffee table.

"What's this? Souvenir so soon?" she assumed in surprise as she put the red box down.

"No, the baker... pâtissier he insisted, gave it to me this morning. It's was a bit strange." he flicked his finger at the top. "It's some chocolate cake, but it looks too good to eat... I'll put it in the fridge for now."

"Maybe it's what the British do?" Mom pursed her lips and shrugged.

"I don't know? He spoke French." Matthew sat down and started to cut his still warm bagel, his maple syrup ready on one side.

Alfred walked out with his towel hanging on his shoulder, water still dripping from the shower, humming.

"French? Ooooh, bagel!" He tiptoed over and stole a slice. "It's actually pretty good. You went out and bought this?"

"Yeah, while I was downtown. I don't like the hotel's breakfast." Matt dipped his bagel in maple syrup. Alfred jeered.

"You shouldn't be picky now, Matthew. Here, Alfred. Your breakfast." Mom pushed the said tray of hotel breakfast in front of Alfred. "Try some of these crumpets, they are pretty good."

"M'kay!"

. o . O . o .

"Are we ready?" Linda greeted everyone with her brightest smile at the door.

"Yes. How are you?" Mom hugged her and they were off to the car outside.

"I'm great! You look much better compare to yesterday, ma'am." Linda seemed a bit too formal today, he thought. Maybe something happened.

"Oh, I bet." Mom giggled nervously with a small blush.

Alfred followed them, his hand in pockets. It was raining outside. 'First time seeing London rain. Probably not the last', Alfred thought as they drove away. The rain was kinda depressing so Alfred put his headphones on and played some rock.

Everyone around him was chatting politely and surprisingly, he decided not to butt in. People have said that he can't read the mood at all. Alfred amused himself with some childish thought of rubbing this moment in their face.

"Hey, Al! Doing alright?" Robert winked at him from the driver's seat with a smirk on his lips. That, unexpectedly, managed to turn off a certain grown-up switch in Alfred.

"I'm fine! Hey, will it really rain all day every day in London like everyone said?" Alfred exclaimed excitedly. He'd been meaning to ask this for sometimes actually, and this was a perfect opportunity, being in England and all!

"Pretty much, yes. You don't like it?"

"Nah, I'm okay, it rains a lot in Rochester too. But it's a different kinda rain..." He looked outside and mused, letting his voice trail off a bit. "London rain is like this melancholic thing, ya know... almost like someone just want to hide away, so he isolated himself from others, confined in this forever gloomy world..."

The street was more solitary than he though. In NY, there'd still be people going about on the street no matter the weather. The rain, in Alfred's world, had always made things look brighter... and more beautiful. It'd take him away from the busy city and maybe appreciate the greenery once in a while as he take a stroll down the park. He could be this hopeless romantic sometimes.

The car got a bit quiet. Everyone was looking at Alfred except for Matt, who was just texting quietly, expected him to continue. It was rather surprising, for anyone upon meeting Alfred. No one thought he'd had any fancy in lofty literature side, at all. Matt just got so used to it growing up next to him. Of course, Alfred was just being Alfred, the valedictorian of his class, captain of football team, every girl's heart-throb at his old school. He could have gotten into MIT easily, if he wanted. Matt gave a small grin at Alfred.

"Stop talking like an old man, Al. You sounds almost... _sophisticated_." He failed to contain his giggle at old Alfred.

"HEY I'm your BIG brother, Matt! Don't make fun of me!" he pouted his lips and tackled Matt.

Then everyone joined in, laughing at the silly brothers, as the rain seemed to subside. Alfred couldn't hope for more.

They soon arrived at the Royal London Hospital. Mom was looking more nervous than ever, biting her lips and tensing up a bit, Alfred noticed. He suddenly laughed cheerfully as he put his arms around her shoulder and Matt's from the back.

"It'll be fine. You always worry to much Mom!"

He gave it a gentle squeeze, which made Mom looked back and smile, though the nervousness never left her face. Linda nodded as she walked ahead to lead the way.

"Here we are, room 13. He's informed of your visit. I'll just wait out at the lobby." Linda knocked at the door, then winked at them and waved good-bye.

"Thank you, Linda. See ya!" Alfred sounded, gleefully.

Then when he turned back to the other two, there was impenetrable silence among them. No one made any move. They simply stared at the cold door's handle. Nothing was heard from the inside either. Mom eventually moved her shaky fingers to the handle and turned it, slowly and carefully. They paused again before walking in.

As they pictured, there he was, sitting on the white sheet by the opened window. There were tubes hanging around, but most have probably been removed, judging by how empty the room felt.

It had been so many years since Alfred last seen the man he thought he'd forget. He had aged, and his cancer had probably taken much from him. His hair, as many as he had left, had become gray here and there. He looked too thin and weary. They could hear the rain pouring from outside as if it was trying to drown the silent between them, so they could stay forever without a word.

"Kennedy."

He turned to face them, and at that one moment, Alfred was sure he'd seen the man from the past, the man who would tell him bedtime stories, kissed him goodnight on the forehead, one who'd gently taught him how to treat his new brother. They were the memories he'd tried to cast away, he really tried, but it was always there, always haunting Alfred, together with the childhood dreams of his dad returning with that smile on his face again, and how his family would... be together again.

Just like before.

Unbroken.

It was his smile that was so familiar to Alfred. It would trigger the painful memories in him.

He turned away and avoided the man's gaze, feeling bashful, as if that part of himself was exposed to the man at the moment, and how the same man sitting there would see through him like it was written all over his face.

"I haven't seen you in so long." The man said with a sad but most genuine smile as he looked over to his wife and his grown sons in front of him.

Mom, unable to control her emotion, bursted out in tears, her shoulder trembling. Matthew looked away too, though at least, he was tearing up. Alfred stood there, his stomach was cold as ice, something holding him back from just letting it go. Something pricking his heart.

Things started to quiet down as Mom sat down next to the bed. Then they would talk, about all kinda stuff. Dad's condition rarely came up though, as if they were afraid of jinxing something, something that was terribly broken and unrepairable. Emptiness, the thing that would trigger an isolated, frozen period of time where they knew nothing about him. It was just Mom and Dad doing the talking. Alfred and Matthew quietly sat on the cold chair, their back against wall, just staring at the couple in front of them, the floor, the scenery outside the window. Anything but meeting their parent's eyes.

After Dad went back to England, he got a small house, though most of his days were spent at the company or in the hospital. The part about him replacing his brother at the top of the company was true too. So he worked and it was that way for almost four years. It had helped him with the... treatment plan, with his relative's help as a condition to him being there. It did much to prolong his time. But then he was dismissed from the position to a lower one that wouldn't require as many hours because of his health eventually. When asked who replaced the position after him, he paused a bit, then laughed slightly and told them about their poor 21-years-old cousin, who was the rightful heir in the first place. He spent much of his months off traveling Europe while experimenting a trial drug that would keep his lung from deteriorating. Five years passed by just like that. His condition got worse last month, and he had stayed here since.

Alfred sat listening to the man's words. Simple words between long paused, not a hint of resentment. Anger was bubbling through Alfred's vein though. He had no idea how the man must have felt all those years working like a puppet for his superficial family. The thought disgusted him that they were informed of his condition and knowing that, they still wanted him to just be there for the time so the spoiled new heir could easily take over later on without much trouble than if they would have let a stranger, a man who was maybe more healthy, to hold the position. Then he grew angry at the fact that everyone was too afraid to even bring up the word cancer. Then anger toward his dad, for not even resenting his family full of contemptible, corrupted, degraded, greedy bastards or the cancer that was slowly killing him from the inside.

"Why didn't you come back to us?" Alfred spoke up for the first time, still avoiding his dad's eyes.

The man, though surprised at his word at first, was sadden by it in seconds. Then he looked away, outside the window again.

"I couldn't." He said in a low voice. "I couldn't bring myself to. You see... I couldn't decide then, whether or not it was the right decision..." He let out a heavy sigh.

The room grew colder and the rain began to pelt louder on the window sill outside. Everyone seemed to shuddered a bit as he continued.

"I started to accept the fact that I only have a few years left. And there were so many thing I wanted to do before... you know, before I'm gone. I started looking at other things. Things I actually wanted to do."

He looked back to his wife, who was looking intensely at him with a painful expression. Then to his children, who finally looked at him than just avoiding his eyes. This time, he was the first to look away, gazing tiredly down at the white sheets.

"I made my choice. And don't get me wrong, because now I'm glad I did... If I haven't left, I would have regretted it. A lot." He said, a lot more firmly than a while ago. "Forgive me."

Alfred was facing the floor again, his fists shaking in front of him. That was plain bullshit. He felt like he had just seen another side of the man, and a selfish one. Did his family only meant so much to him? Alfred's face was hot, but his nose felt cold.

Suddenly, Moriah stood up from the chair, her shoulder tensed. And though Alfred couldn't see her face, Moriah was most probably in tears.

"So you don't regret leaving me?" her voice was cold and determined, unlike her stance, looking as if she was about to break any minute.

Kennedy looked up at his wife.

"No." he said, without hesitation.

She turned her back and immediately stormed out of the room as quick as possible.

Alfred was almost bewildered at his answer. Not in any other time did he want to punch his dad as badly as he does now. He wanted to stand up and just get out of the room. So he did. Only, when he looked back at dad for the last time... his anger faltered.

The man's face, his expression, was the most sorrowful and crestfallen. He looked like a man who had just got his heart broken. Why was he allowed to look that way, when he was the one who broke Mom's heart, without even the slightest hesitation? _How?_

Alfred left, running after Mom. She needed him.

He could only hear the fading wheezes and coughs from behind him.

* * *

><p>Arthur's day was actually good for once. He got done with his paperwork quickly; thank god the headache was gone by then. Then Kiku came over for lunch, he didn't want to eat alone since Heracles had to leave for something urgent about his brother. Roderich joined them, which surprised Arthur. Usually he'd just work through lunch break to get done with whatever first, then come out for lunch. They had a rather good time, well, as good as talking about politics and the weather could get. But it was much better than rushing to finish at lunch time, alone, which he had been doing most of these days.<p>

Then the rest of the day, Arthur got a few appointments scheduled, wrote a few short reports, finished up papers for one or two cases, well he typed them according to Roderich's draft and formatted it, that was all. He worked fast, unlike most people, who would just get distracted with personal phone calls and emails. Roderich didn't have any appointments this afternoon, which is a surprise since they are almost always packed on Fridays. A pleasant surprise. He rarely got some time to spare now and then in the office so naturally... he started working on his school assignment. Though it might seemed impossible, Arthur always found time to get his school work done. No matter if he was holding 2 jobs, he was attending online school for an associate degree that he planned to go further into a bachelor for journalism. And though he struggled sometimes, especially on the math and science courses right now (that he had put off from his first year,) he was more determined than ever.

His phone's 3 o'clock alarm buzzed slightly on the white tabletop, telling him it was time to leave. He rubbed his eyes, worn out from staring at the computer this whole time, stretched and cleaned up his desk. Another week gone in the dust, Arthur found it rather hard to believe Christmas was in two weeks. Before that, there was also the 23rd. He usually didn't celebrate Christmas because of it. But every year, there was that emptiness and maybe a bit of loneliness eating him on the inside. He walked down the street in his tan coat, under his favorite black umbrella, his breath fogging. _It'll start snowing before I know it_, he smiled sadly to himself.

. o . O . o .

"Eww, it's Arthur again! Mom, Arthur's here!"

Okay, that wasn't very nice. He stood in front of a typically small house with light blue roof, his fist clenching at the commotion from inside. He couldn't wait to get his hand on that brat's cheek, just to pinch the hell out of it. Every Tuesday and Friday afternoon at 4 o'clock, Arthur would go to Berwald and Tino's house to tutor Peter, their son, and Raivis, a boy from the nearby orphanage. Peter was a brat without class, no matter how many times he looked at him. Even when his adoptive parents were the nicest people around, it didn't seem to have rubbed off to Peter. Not at all.

"Peter, don't be rude to your teacher!" A muffled tenor male voice was heard. Then the door opened, revealed a short and rather timid boy.

"Hello, Mr. Kirkland. Please come in." Raivis answered the door and greeted him shyly.

"Thank you, Raivis. How are you?" Arthur pat the little kid on his head; at least he was polite, hard-working and was not a little shit like Peter.

He hung his coat to the hanger at the doorstep and came around the kitchen.

"Hello, Tino and Berwald." Arthur gave a courteous smile at the couple sitting at the the dining table.

"Tervetuloa, Arthur! Please sit down and have a snack." Tino smiled brightly at him, pointing to the chair next to him. Berwald was sitting next to him with a book in his hand. He looked up and gave a slight nod at Arthur's arrival.

"Thank you." Arthur said as he walked over to the table.

It had become a ritual that every time Arthur came over, they would have snack ready for him, since they knew that he came straight from work and hardly had any time to eat. Arthur appreciated their kindness, and that was probably the reason why he was still here, sticking around to teach Peter. The boy settled down to the seat next to him, his cheeks leaning on the small palms.

"Hey Eyebrows. Why can't you just stop coming every Friday?" Peter poked at Arthur's elbow, his lips pouted.

"I would, if you stop being a big baby and grow up a little." Arthur said as he finished his sandwich.

"Hey that's not nice. I'm very much of a grown up!" He proudly stood on the chair, hand over his chest.

"Yeah? How come a _grown up_ is calling others with anything other than their given name? I don't recall my name being eyebrows."

Tino was now giggling in the background. It was always this lively every time Arthur came over. Arthur cleared his throat, as he had no wish to stoop to Peter's level of immaturity.

"Oh yeah? I've heard my parents calling each other a bunch of names like kultaseni, älskling, rakastettu or karamell whatever every night or something. Are you saying they aren't—" he bragged in Arthur's face cheekily as he leaned onto the table.

"Okay, that's enough." Berwald, a little pink on the cheek, finally picked him up from the chair to prevent him from taking this to a much more _different_ topic.

"It's true!" he protested.

"Go play with Hanatamago for a while, Peter." he shooed the boy away and then came back shortly.

"Sorry Arthur. You... didn't have to know that." A beet red Tino smiled at him awkwardly, avoiding his eyes.

"It's fine really..." God, the awkwardness was getting to Arthur as well. He was not, per se, unfamiliar to the language, since he'd been visiting these two since they moved in 2 years ago. Being around the_ affectionate_ Scandinavians, he'd seem much more than just _names_... But that's a different matter! Well, even if he's used to it, being called out for it by their son must be rather... _awkward_.

So he decided to be done with his snacking to escape from there and... head upstairs to find Peter and Raivis.

They were there alright, with a small puff of white jumping among their feet. The dog's name gave Arthur some trouble to pronounce at first, not anymore, but it's still weird to have it named flower-egg in Japanese. Apparently, they got him from a Japanese woman next door, who was giving up puppies for adoption since she was moving.

"Peter, Raivis, I'm done. Let's go." He called out to the boys.

"Yes, sir!" Raivis quickly followed him, while Peter tried to sneak off, carrying Hanatamago with him. _That_, unfortunately, had never worked.

Peter was not really that bad in school, or to the extent of needing a tutor anyway. He did rather well in math and science classes and was an honor art student. It was only English that he was having problem with. The boy would refuse to remember any grammar taught at school, whether by force or not. And it wasn't intentional, _hopefully_. They wouldn't have to hire Arthur if the boy'd stop falling asleep in English classes. Raivis, on the other hand,... didn't need tutoring. He was a brightest kid in class and did his work properly. He was just hanging out, being there to help Peter remember things, and ask questions about books, since the boy have this love for poetry and romance novels. Arthur appreciated him for being there, actually listening attentively and getting Peter to study. He was, in a way, like Arthur's moral support, so the Briton wouldn't just chew Peter's head off while trying to explain what a continuous past perfect tense was to the ungrateful brat. Arthur had no idea how these two could be friends. But it turned out to help Peter so he had no complaint.

"Hey Eyebrows. What's that on your hand?" Peter stared at Arthur's palm, obviously not interested in the practice worksheet in front of him as he was trying to distract Arthur's reading instead.

"None of your business. Now focus." Arthur waved him off, eyes still practically glued to the book.

Peter took the opportunity to sneak up on him and grabbed his right hand.

"Wow, did you write this with your left hand? This is not your handwriting, is it?"

"No, now let go." Arthur sighed, a little irritated. He was not going to bother to fend off a nosy kid and break eye contact with his book though. Wait a minute, is he talking about—

Arthur pulled his hand from the kid's grasp. He wished Peter hadn't got the time to decipher it. It looked like luck wasn't by his side this time.

"Wow, that's really romantic! I didn't know you could have a lover." Peter grinned at him with, what people would call it, shiny eyes.

"What about lover?" At the slight mention of romance and love, Raivis also dropped his book and looked up in anticipation.

"Nothing. And I don't." Arthur sighed, picking up his book from his lap.

"Who would tell you to "smile" more with that sinister smirk and those enormous eyebrows you've got there, if not a lover?" Peter was now in Arthur's face, again.

"Doesn't matter, Peter. Get back to work." Arthur didn't want to engage in any conversation with Peter. And that seemed to work as the boy pouted and sat back down on his chair.

"Wait, can anyone tell me what happened?" Raivis was still there, being confused and clueless, at the wrong time.

"Someone wrote this love message on Arthur's hand!" Peter looked back with a secretive smile on his lips.

Arthur couldn't believe how fast that was exaggerated. Peter almost always knew how to get on his nerve. Now he got Raivis to give Arthur the sparkly _please-tell-me-the-love-romantic-thing_ puppy eyes, which... is too blinding for Arthur.

"It was just some random lad I didn't even know, okay? So no, nothing romantic here. I didn't even remember anything, and most certain NOT _love_." Arthur gave up.

Raivis was dejected to find out it was just a false alarm. He took a fast peek at Arthur's hand anyway.

"You know, no offence, but I don't think anyone random would just write on your hand if they don't at least_ care_."

"Told ya I'm right!" Peter inserted, and Arthur still found it unnecessary.

"No you are not!" Arthur rejected Peter.

But maybe that person did _care_? Well, they got Arthur to talk about Elizaveta, which was really surprising, since anything about Arthur's life before work never really came up when Arthur talked with friends who know nothing about them.

_Really_?

"By the way, did that mean Arthur likes being hit with frying pan? Do you think he's okay?" Raivis whispered to Peter, though anyone could have probably heard it across the room.

_'Okay, no way', _Arthur thought as he turned around and continued read.

* * *

><p>Alfred ran after his Mom, who was sobbing all the way to the bathroom. She didn't want him to follow her, so he simply stood outside, until Matthew caught up with him much later, for some reasons. They were both in silent, though Alfred could still remember his brother's hand holding onto his jacket's elbow. They left the hospital shortly after Mom came out, her eyes puffy and red. Linda saw them at the way out and offered to drive them back, but Moriah simply declined, said that they could find their way back to the hotel just fine.<p>

The following days, Mom locked herself in the room, occasionally answered calls over her phone to assure the boys that she was alright. Many times, Alfred tried to do something to cheer her up, but his effort seemed to be in vain. Only time could heal it, he guessed. Mom had been so devastated over that man; she basically drove herself into an alcoholic. And now, it could be happening again soon. Alfred was terribly worried over her health, until the fourth day. Mom came out and had lunch with them, instead of having meal brought to her.

"Hey."

"Yes, Mom?" he looked up from his food, attentively at the dazing off woman across the table.

"Do you need anything?" Matthew asked, a bit worried since she had been really quiet too after her arrival.

"I just wanted to know... Are you boys going to be fine with me traveling?"

"Are you going somewhere? Cuz I think we can just all go," Alfred grinned.

"No, I think I'd better do it alone. I want to travel Europe." She sighed softly, chin leaning on the top of her palm. "It'll be pretty long, and Matthew still has school, you know."

"I'm okay with you traveling. If that's what you want," Matthew said.

"It's fine, we can take care of ourselves." Alfred agreed.

"Just a thought." she smiled weakly. "I'm not going anywhere until things have settled down..."

Alfred ate the last bite of his roll, and then suddenly, he stood up.

"How about going around London for now? Technically, it's still Europe!" he smiled brightly. "We still haven't exactly visit places, after all!"

And so they set out plans. With the help from a dear Robert, they pinpointed some different locations, from the nearby Big Ben, London Eyes, Tower of London, Westminster Abbey, the British Museum to other U.K. attractions like Durham Castle, York Minster or other cities like Aberdeen, Manchester, or Liverpool. Alfred specifically wanted to visit Royal Observatory Greenwich. But after roughly a week of touring London, they received another call from Linda. This time, it was urgent. His Dad's condition got worse, and they paid him another visit. It was a surprise that he looked much better than the first time they visited him. Mom, though it was her decision to visit, had a hard time deciding how to act toward him. The conversations were short and too impersonal for family, as if there was an invisible wall in between them. And there was. They hadn't seen each other for a decade, and when they finally did, he did flat out say that they weren't as important to his life. That was honestly the best they could do for a dying man, Alfred thought. It's hard and almost impossible to blame anyone for anything when they are dying. Even when they, your own parent, basically left you for their selfish needs when opportunity presented itself. And they are leaving you forever. It was too short an amount of time to decide on anything, especially when all you wanted to do was to run away from reality and find distractions.

They paid him another visit the next day, but unfortunately, the man had entered a deep sleep. Alfred could honestly say that by then, those quiet days in the hospital, waiting for any signs from the man had been the worst days of his life. All he could see was gray foggy sky, cold dreary rain; and desolation, whether on the street, or in the hospital at night; the impending departure when he left the stuffy room for some air, when his mom and brother had fallen asleep, every night when he was wide awake. That night especially, when the man left.

. o . O . o .

It was two days after his death, and the 23rd of December. The funeral ceremony was held publicly in a protestant church. Many people were surrounding him, most people, he had never seen before. Though Mom notified her side of the family, they didn't expect anyone to show up. And so no one did. Some of Mom's best friends came, however. The rest were from dad's company, his side of the family, and some old friends he had. After prayers and sermon, some of his close friends came up and read off eulogies, one after others.

The burial was planned at 1 the afternoon at the nearby cemetery, as the rain subsided to a small drizzle. Alfred stood solemnly at the front of the crowd. It was a rather large and cold funeral among strange faces. Mom simply stood, looking so fragile and pale in her mourning dress that everyone thought she would break down any time soon. She did not shed a single tear. Alfred could only guess that she had cried all her tears, from the many days in the past. She was a strong woman.

Matthew stood next to him in the cold rain, emotionless. He barely spoke at all these days. Sometimes, Alfred wondered if his brother was there at all, or it was just him physically. He also wondered if he himself was there at all, if he was really seeing all these things happening, or did his head just made them all up. It was eating him from the inside, and he had no way of finding out the truth, changing anything, no right actions to take, and no motivation to do anything but stand back and watch as the burial took place.

Even now, he wondered how dad must have felt at his last moment; hopefully, the man found some peace...

Most people were gone by the time the burial was over; only about 20 people were left. The place became more and more empty as the sky grew darker and the rain only got heavier. Alfred's family decided to stay a bit longer for the post ceremony gathering until everyone was gone, and hopefully the weather would lighten up a bit. It was only about 3 o'clock after all. Meanwhile, he was walking outside to get some fresh air, as he always does whenever he feels uncomfortable. He usually liked crowds of people, but not the kind of crowd where people talk about the deceased quietly, and not in this place.

"Alfred!"

"Hello, Linda." Alfred turned around to see the usual secretary approaching him from the people leaving. It seemed that the funeral was getting to her as well, maybe somewhat even worse than most people around her. She had always been beside the man, even after he left office.

"I want you to hold onto this." she pulled out a letter from her matching black purse and hold onto his hand as she placed it. "Please open it when you get home, or any time after that is fine too."

Her tone was really serious; it made Alfred felt this sudden importance of whatever's inside the white envelope.

"Is it some legal paper? If so I can give it to my Mom—"

"No. I'm giving her that next. Listen, don't show your Mom this, okay? It's a promise." she looked at Alfred in the eyes to make sure he heard her.

"S-sure." Alfred stuttered. Something felt something was wrong at the time. What is it that he wasn't supposed to let his Mom know?

"Good. Remember okay?" she breathed out in relief. "Now where could your Mother be? I'm still driving you guys home, right?"

"Yes, my mom is still inside, visiting with others, probably." Alfred pointed to the building. "And thank you for everything, Linda." He managed a small smile.

"I'm just doing everything I can to help. Give me or Robert a call whenever you need, okay?" She smiled back and gave his shoulder a light squeeze. "See you."

He nodded and carefully put the letter in the big interior pocket of his suit. That was probably the designed place for these things.

As he continued to walk, he noticed that there were still a small group of people under black umbrellas around the new grave. Alfred probably had never seen them before, of course, but they must have been close to the man. After all, it was 2 days day before Christmas Eve. One has other things, better things to do than mourning over someone they barely knew. There stood out a man without umbrella, probably in his thirty, with glasses, brown slicked up hair, and a curl refusing to lie flat, under the falling rain.

The rest of cemetery was really deserted too. As far as he could see, only a person or two was around. Suddenly he spotted someone he knew, finally. It was certainly not one of his guests though. It was the man he met from the pub.

* * *

><p>Arthur walked through the cold cemetery, his black umbrella overhead. Every 23rd of December these years, he would visit his father's grave. Today happened to be Monday, so he could only go after work. But for some reason, Roderich decided to head back early too, as he had some business to attend to.<p>

None of his 3 older brothers lived around London, and even if they had time to go back and get him some flower, they didn't. It was mostly Arthur. And it was more of a sympathy thing than something done out of love. Arthur hated the man. Still, he was his father, and he was death. Arthur felt like he could take out a few hours to at least see him every year.

He placed the bouquet of daffodil next to the grave and stood there under the rain. It didn't become a habit that he'd visit the grave until 3 years ago. Arthur found it hard to forgive the man in many ways in his earlier teenage years. And now here he is, paying him a visit every year, a scene he could never had imagined back then.

As he looked to his right, some people in black were still leaving the church as when he walked in. Probably a big funeral. Arthur felt bad for whoever's it was. No one wanted family member's death around big holidays like Christmas, he could empathized.

"Hey."

Arthur turned to his left to see a man in black suit, standing next to him. He looked really familiar, but Arthur couldn't recall where he had seen him.

"Hello... May I help you?" He wondered what the man needed, noticing his black suit.

"Oh, yeah." Alfred realized that the man probably can't recognize him, for it had been a while. Plus he was drunk anyway. "Are you visiting?"

"Yes. And... I'd take it that... you are from the funeral?" he questioned, pointing at the church.

"Yup... my dad's. Do you have some time for a small talk?" he smiled sadly.

It's not hard to notice, Arthur thought, that the man's accent was definitely of an American. Arthur was free anyway, so sparing a few minutes couldn't be bad. They started walking slowly down the cemetery.

"Who were you visiting? I'm just curious, there's no need to say anything if you don't want to." Alfred said nervously. He sucked at starting small and polite talks. But Robert told him, while they were still touring London that one week, that Britons usually hate American for being way too straightforward and loud upon first meeting. Alfred had said that he never get British people for being too formal, like they always have a stick up their ass or something. _Well... _that had been funny, but being loud certainly wasn't the right thing to do this time. Plus he couldn't find the slightest motivation to be even remotely energetic today, not in a cemetery anyway.

"My father. It seems that we have something in common." Arthur smiled, sadly.

"Yeah. Only I probably won't be visiting him much. This will be one of the last times I'd see him again in years."

"Oh."

After a short pause, Arthur looked at the stranger next to him. "Sorry, don't mean to be nosy but, was he traveling or something?"

"What?"

"Well... you aren't from around here, are you? Your accent screams _American_."

"Oh, that!" Alfred smiled, realizing why the man asked such strange question of of nowhere. "You're right. But he's British. He... my mother married him, and they lived in the states for a while. Then he moved back here ten years ago..."

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to pry. Really." Arthur uttered as fast as he could.

"It's really okay."

"Still... I'm sorry, you've been through some tough times. My parents were divorced when I was young too, I know how bad it was."

"My parents were never actually divorced... He just... moved one day." Alfred stared at the wet ground, then finally looked up as they stopped moving.

"What?" Arthur looked shock at the man to his left.

"It's basically like divorcing anyway, but... I know. It's strange." Alfred smiled, feeling uneasy.

As if noticing the mood, Arthur stopped thinking about the man's story and cleared his throat.

"Why don't we sit down?" Alfred pointed at a bench on the road. It happened to be dry, thanks to the big tree overhead.

"Yes." Arthur followed him.

. o . O . o .

"Let's not talk about my family anymore. How is yours?" Alfred leaned on the backrest as soon as he closed his umbrella.

Arthur paused a bit at the mention and looked up. Then he closed his umbrella, too.

"Mine... it had always been a mess. You see, my mom wasn't a very faithful person." He said, looking out at the many gravestones in front of him.

Alfred simply waited patiently for the man the talk again.

"She got married to my dad and had four children. But then they found out that she was cheating on him with the neighbor. They even had a kid around my age."

"Wow." Alfred let out unconsciously. "Oops, sorry. Go on."

"It's alright. I thought so too. And who knew how many other people she was with." Arthur smiled sadly. "My dad... he became a completely different person. After the divorce, he started drinking heavily. And things got worse from there... Yeah." Arthur sighed. I can't believe I told someone that, was running through his mind. But he could really care less what an American he'll probably never meet again think about his family.

"And how old were you?" Alfred asked, his mind still trying to imagine what a shitty life that would be.

"Let me think... My dad died when I was 16... that was 3 years from the divorce. I was around 13 years old." Arthur was never sure when he talk about his age. That was so long ago, he realized.

"Wow... I mean, I'm sorry. But... ya know."

Alfred sat back.

"I know."

They had a moment of silence. The rain was actually lightening up to a sprinkle, and the afternoon sun was visible from the cloudy sky.

'Somehow, the day didn't feel as bad as it did', they both thought.

"How old are you now?" Alfred asked out of curiosity. The man was probably around his age. He sounded older but that's as most British people do.

"Me? I turned 23 this year. What 'bout you?" Arthur looked at the young man.

"WHAT? You can't be serious!" Alfred almost shat himself. How is that possible? He looked freaking younger than Alfred. Wait, looking closer now, he is in a suit under that coat. Alfred probably didn't notice the last time at the pub because he was in shirts trousers. Wait, thinking back, he _was_ at a_ pub_. And_ the owner was his friend. _How stupid did that make Alfred.

"What?"

"Nothing... I'm 19."

Now it was time for Arthur to be surprised. He looked at him with the most incredulous face he could pull at the outrage.

"Wow... I feel cheated. How come most Americans are so..."

"I was in the football team."

"Are you not in school?"

"I was, until this summer. I'm still not sure about entering school again since I already got an associate."

The rain had stopped before either of them noticed. Alfred looked up at the clearing sky. It looked windy up there, as the cloud was moving fast, but only a light breeze was felt. A light cold breeze, it almost felt like autumn again.

"What do you want to be?" Arthur glanced over to the young man next to him and started doing the same thing.

"A police officer."

"Oh." Arthur nodded. "Well, it doesn't hurt to be prepared for whatever comes next, I guess. I think you should continue with your study while you are still young."

"And why do you say that?" Alfred looked back at him.

Arthur stood up from the bench.

"Experience. I'm still in the uni." He paused. "And my dad was a police officer. I mean, he was a good officer. That he was." Arthur looked at him in the eyes.

"Thanks." Alfred got to his feet as well, smiling. "I'll think about it."

"Thank you."

"Great talk we had." Alfred patted the man's shoulder.

"I feel the same way. Though your American accent is getting on my nerve. Just a little bit."

"What? It's not like this is the first time we met or anything!" Alfred hinted with a small grin.

"What do you mean it's not?" Arthur asked, eyes widen in a slight surprise.

Then Alfred stepped a little closer. He picked up Arthur's right hand and pointed at his palm.

"Aww, it's gone of course. But remember?"

What's gone? His right palm?

"Ahhhh! You were THAT American?" The dots were connecting.

"Yup!" Alfred giggled at Arthur's expression.

"Wait, this is important. What was the name... Alfred?"

"Alfred F. Jones is the full name." Alfred laughed. "I can't believe you remember!"

"Oh."

There it was. The full picture. The Jones. That funeral was Kennedy Jones's. Roderich's leaving early. London had never seem so small that everything is interrelated like this.

"It's kinda hard to miss... when you are a secretary... and is having an appointment with said person tomorrow..." Arthur murmured, mostly to himself.

"What'cha say?" Alfred leaned in closer.

"Nothing." Arthur snapped out of his thoughts.

"You never told me your name."

"What?"

"I don't know your name."

"Oh, me? I'm Arthur. Arthur Kirkland."

"Hi Arthur!" Alfred felt giddy. He felt like he no longer remembered that they were in a cemetery. Or it was his dad's funeral day. All he could see was Arthur in front of him.

Arthur smiled at the goofy boy. It was one thing to tell a stranger you'll never meet again your life story. It was another to a client. But there was no harm in doing so. It made him a little happy, actually, to have someone listening for once.

"Alfred?" A call was heard from behind them. Alfred turned back to find Matthew standing a few feet away.

"Hi Mattie!" He waved at his brother, grinning.

"We are leaving soon." A confused Canadian waved back.

"Be right there!"

Then he turned to Arthur again, who was still looking at the other blond.

"My brother, isn't he a cutie?"Alfred said. " Now tell me your number or something real quick? Cuz... ya know, we should hang out sometimes!"

Arthur was still a bit slow, trying to process what the American just said, but he got a better idea.

"It's not needed. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon." He smiled and waved good-bye.

"What do you mean tomorrow? Here?"

"No, just... ask your brother for tomorrow's schedule. Bye, Alfred."

"Okay then, whatever you mean. See you, Arthur!" Alfred said cheerfully before hurrying after his brother.

Arthur looked at his watch. It was 4:25 already. Then he looked after the brothers rushing to the church's direction. About time he get back as well, Arthur guessed. He picked up his umbrella, then noticed that the blond had left his blue umbrella there by the bench. He smiled, thinking about how silly Alfred would look when he return him the umbrella tomorrow. Forget the umbrella, his face would probably be hilarious meeting Arthur again alone.

This whole thing had been a mess, how he met Alfred in a pub, then a cemetery of all places. And somehow, it was all connected. He was seeing him again tomorrow at the office. Arthur found it hard not to believe in fate.

For the first time in forever, Arthur actually wished for tomorrow to come soon.

* * *

><p><em>[To be continued...]<em>

.

_(Please don't hate me for the MANY depressing Alfred scenes in this chapter. Blame the terrible unicorn that made me dreamed up this story ; v ;)_

.

Mon cher - My dear

Tervetuloa - Welcome

kultaseni, rakastettu - finnish for sweetheart, love.

älskling, karamell - swedish for darling, caramel.

_**Edit:** For past reader, there were a note here, you didn't remember it wrong. I decided to take it out due to some reasons ;) If you have no idea what I'm talking about, don't worry. Probably nothing important~_

_Thank you for everyone's support :) I truly appreciate you guys!_

_Btw, I'm not sure if everyone prefer: long wait and long chapters or shorter time with shorter chapters? Give me an opinion on that down at the reviews, if you have time? That would be very helpful to know. Thanks!_


	4. Chapter 4: The Stirring

Alfred's finger tapped lightly on the top of the nightstand as he continued to scroll down his Facebook's dash. It was well after two o'clock in the morning after he was done pestering Toris back in the states on Skype; and again, he couldn't seem to fall asleep, despite being all comfortably tucked in bed. After his dad's funeral, there wasn't so much to do but a few visits outside scheduled to the law office to settle some paperwork. Talk about the law office, he met the Briton, namely Arthur again! He just had to be working there as a secretary. Sometimes the world can be a strangely small place, Alfred mused.

Alfred didn't even bother to check his notifications, as there were over hundred of them. Another sleepless night. He should really give up on Facebook. He haven't even talk to half of his friends in years, and most of the posts are from the various pages that he liked, nothing that important anyway. And now after his dad was gone, another thing have been happening. Strangers adding Alfred, tagging him in various posts, messaging him. Days after nights. Alfred can't seem to fall asleep and stay sleeping as he was able to before. A feeling of listlessness and a lack of exhaustion. And more of these nights to come. He doesn't know. Maybe he should prank call someone, he hadn't done that in a while. Maybe Arthur, as he had, skillfully, sneaked a business card from Arthur's work table on the way out that afternoon. Wait, that would be his office phone, damn it. Arthur Kirkland. Alfred found himself strangely attracted to his presence. After their little chat in the cemetery, he wanted to know more about the man. That feeling when he might have found someone mildly interesting to mess with.

He felt like a hermit these days being stuck indoor, mostly from looking back at all the travelings and plannings last month. Mom still seemed pretty set on going east to Europe, though. Ugh, the time he will have to continue being here. It had been 1 week since the funeral. New Year's Eve was over. 1 more month until he leaves England to go back to his old life. 1 long months of time to waste. He really doesn't want to go back to the states either. Guess this is kinda like a blur after shock or something. However, he was not in shock...

Maybe it's because Dad wasn't around much that he didn't develop as much feeling for the man as any child should.

…

It wasn't long until Alfred fell asleep with his light still on, his laptop still in front of him on his stomach, and askew red glasses on his face.

A white envelope lay forgotten on the small table in the corner, under other messy papers. Its red seal shined under the yellow light, hidden in itself a bitter truth than Alfred have yet to know.

* * *

><p>[January 2nd, Early Morning: 5 A.M.]<p>

Arthur's phone kept going off. Again. And again. Until he woke up, and noticed that it wasn't his usual alarm. He slid the screen unlocked, and peered at the bright screen from his warm blanket cocoon. Then suddenly, he sat up straight on the bed, wide eyed. Two missed calls from his older brother, Allistor. Calls. Allistor never called him. At least he hadn't in years. So why now? What's the changed after all these times? And in the early morning, to boot... He considered calling back, but then he hesitated. If it had been something important, he would surely call again, right?

With his mind already awake, he wandered through the small flat to get ready for the new day. The floor was terrible cold this early. It never took him too terribly long, and following the usual routine, he walked out the door of his flat, down the rusty stairs, out to the still sleepy city.

The rain was not here yet, though as always, Arthur cautiously carried the portable umbrella under his tan coat as he took a walk around town, possibly visiting Gil and get something for breakfast at Francis's. Though he'd usually avoid the man, Arthur had to admit his weak spot for the famous patisserie's fresh breads and other sweets.

The heavy rain suddenly decided to fall, just like Arthur thought it would. While the few cars had nothing to worry about on the empty open street, Arthur carefully opened his umbrella and with a swift move, hung it over his shoulder. The chilly air followed his foggy breath as he walked closer toward a yellow street light. The water droplets bounced around, making little white bubbles on the many small puddles on the orange brick pavement. In a brief glance at the lid up red telephone box ahead of him, Arthur noticed something was moving inside. Actually someone. A certain American leaning against the side of the small glass box, on his phone, probably hiding from the rain.

"Alfred." he mouthed, tapping onto the cold glass. Up close, he noticed the boy had earphones in. It still did took Alfred no time to notice the shadow from outside of the box, as his expression brighten in response.

"Arthur! We met again!" Alfred pulled the earphones away, opened the red door at an angle so they could talk to each other without the rain pouring into the booth.

"Good morning. What are you doing out and about this early?"

"Oh. I woke up early, and was gonna head to the bakery downtown, ya know, the one near the pub," he winked, "when this rain came down, so I sprinted real fast here instead… until it stop."

"I guessed as much." Arthur shook his head with a soften expression. "This is London. Do yourself a favour and bring an umbrella everywhere you go, lad."

"It wasn't raining when I left!" Alfred smiled innocently.

"Come here, you." Arthur leaned the umbrella toward Alfred's direction. "We are going to the same place anyway, though oddly enough."

"Seriously?" Alfred cheered. "Thank you, man!"

"No problem at all."

They walked together in the pouring rain without much trouble, since even if the rain was really coming down, there were hardly any wind. Arthur's hand shivered slightly at the cold from holding the umbrella up for Alfred nevertheless. As if noticing, Alfred gently place his warm hand over Arthur's and offered to hold the umbrella instead, since he was the taller one anyway. Without word, Arthur gave a light nodded and they traded place. For a moment, a brief, indescribable, safe feeling washed over him at the lingering warmth at the back of his hand from the touch.

"Are you often up this early?" Arthur asked to lessen the quiet air between them.

"Nah, I usually sleep in until late morning. I even went to sleep super late last night, but I couldn't really get much sleep…" Alfred yawned, rubbing his eyes as his slightly strained voice echo against the cold pavement.

"That's something to worry about. My sleep schedule rarely change at all. I'm usually off to bed early, around 8 or 9 o'clock."

"8 or 9? What do you do with your free time?" Alfred gasped.

"I don't have free time." Arthur said with much conviction.

"Unless you're out drinking." Alfred grinned to himself. It was true that Arthur passed out at the pub late that night.

"Unless I'm at Gil's pub." A little blush made its way to Arthur's cheek. He felt a tad bit shameful at his own poor tolerant over alcohol consumption.

"Anyway, are you doing anything fun for New Year?" Alfred changed topic, humming playfully.

"Not really? It's already the 2nd."

"Let me rephrase that. Did you? Do anything fun for New Year?"

"Went to the pub? I had the day off." Arthur shrugged.

"Do you even have any friend apart from drinking buddies?" Alfred laughed.

"Well, initially they were my friend before they were my drinking pals." Arthur smiled. It certainly is true that he met most of the people in his life now from the pub and his work around that side of London. However, Kiku and Gil seems to be the only exception, as he met them in high school. There's also Elizaveta, yes.

"You are like an old man, Arthur!"

"What do you have to say against my living style?"

"I think it's alright. Kinda unexciting. Isn't it a bit early for you? You are still in your early 20s, right?"

"Age has nothing to do with it."

"Nope, I can't imagine. I'll probably still have no concept of real living style in my 20s."

"You'll get there. It was a rapid transition for me, I suppose."

"Still can't see it." he grinned.

"We are here." Arthur said as he look at the glass door to see the "Open" light lid up.

"Hey! Glad I didn't have to wander around much to actually find this place!" Alfred closed the grey umbrella and stepped inside, leaving it to rest on the metal rack.

"What do you mean? You haven't been here before?"

"I've been wanting to find out exactly where it is. My brother, Matthew frequents this place quite often since we got here." Alfred explained.

"Bienvenue, Arthur~"

Arthur turned around to find the Frenchman, walking out from the kitchen with a tray of pastry, ready to be arranged behind the glass counter.

"Hello Francis. Alright?"

"As usual!" He smiled playfully. "And who's that with you?"

Alfred, who were marveled at the variety of pastries and sweets on the many racks behind the counter, turned around.

"Your hair! And your glasses, too? It can't be... Who are you indeed?" the French exclaimed in great confusion.

"Howdy! I'm Alfred. I've heard of you from my brother, Matthew." the boy grinned at the older man.

"Yes, Matthew! Did you say brothers? Oh my lord..." Francis placed his slender fingers onto the side of his forehead to further emphasize a certain "fangirl moment".

Just then, a certain Canadian walked in, looking like he had been rushing to catch up to a certain someone...

"I knew you were up to something, Alfred! I can just get the bagel as usual." he sighed and gave a soft frowned at the older brother's presence. Alfred had been pestering him on the whereabouts of the bakery that Matthew visited almost every morning.

"Mattie! We were just talking about you." Alfred walked up to him, smiling brightly.

"You were?" the shorter blond questioned nervously.

"They are identical, almost." Arthur said with a shocked face.

"Oh, we are not actually blood related, ya know." Alfred winked.

"Not at all?" Francis gasped.

"Nope!" Alfred laughed.

Matthew sighed at the usual reaction he had received his whole life when this mystery is explained to other people.

"Alfred…"

"What? It's true."

"Not that. Why did you wanted to come here so badly?"

"Oh, I just wanted to check out where my favorite chocolate cake is." he said as he slowly backed away from the other three and closer toward the biggest chocolate cake in sight.

"The one I got the other day was fudge actually."

"I know which one I want, Matt." Alfred said with sparkly eyes of great certainty, as he picked up the order paper for the big chocolate cake, and headed toward Francis.

"So you're a chocolate fan, huh?" Francis winked and pulled out from the glass counter a few chocolate gold coins for Alfred. "Wait while I go and get the packaging ready, darling!"

Arthur, who had gotten over the fact that the brothers were not actually twins and had confirmed why their last names were different, cleared his throat and took the opportunity to introduce himself to Matthew, who were standing next to him, staring almost intensely at today's breakfast menu on the signboard: Waffle and maple syrup latte.

"I didn't get much of a chance to introduce myself properly the last time."

"Yes, I remember seeing you at the office, and together with Alfred a while ago..."

"My apologies if I sounded quite rude at the time. Mr. Edelstein requested to have just your mother and Linda involved in the will paperwork for that day."

"Oh no it's fine, really! Alfred and I were just tagging along anyway." Matthew smiled good-naturally.

"Please do come to the next appointment, though, as it would be specifically for you both. It will be a slow process, but the sooner we get it done, the better." Arthur smiled with a nod, a twinge of sadness on his face.

Matthew also seemed to have noticed what he meant, and nodded, too.

"What cha talkin about?" Alfred, getting his cake boxed, sauntered over to the two.

"Oh, nothing you should be worried about." Matthew pulled Alfred to the side while Arthur took the time and ordered some bread and croissants.

"Why are you with him?" Matt whispered as he pretend to be looking at the chocolates.

"Who? Arthur? I ran into him this morning." Alfred grinned. "He showed me here, by the way!"

"I knew you got help somehow. There's no way you could have gotten here that fast alone in the rain…" Matt muttered to myself.

"What?" Alfred pretended he didn't hear any of that.

"Nothing. Are you leaving now?"

"Waiting for Arthur."

"What? Why?"

"I'm going to hang out with him." Alfred chuckled, then turned around to Arthur's direction. "Hey Arthur! You wanna hang out with me? Since you don't have anything to do this weekend anyway? I have something to talk to you about."

"... Sure, Alfred." Arthur answered, though slightly taken aback at the American's rudeness.

"There you go, Mattie! Bye! Tell Mom if she ask. Or just call."

"What to do with you…" he sighed, then headed over to Francis.

"What's wrong, ange?"

"Nothing... May I have today's breakfast?" he said and shook his head. Alfred being Alfred. He is sure to be up to something.

* * *

><p>"So really, you just wanted me to show you my place." Arthur sighed heavily as he reached into his trousers pocket and pulled out his keychain. He was expecting something like a tour for the American around London, but it seems that Alfred really didn't hold much interest in sightseeing anymore since he'd been here quite a while. So here they were, second floor, a slightly average apartment building just on the edge of town, a 5 minutes' walk from the tube.<p>

"Yup!" Alfred said, excitedly taking in the sight of the old apartment; his eyes drawn to the twinkling winged mint bunny keychain.

'So that's his style, huh?' Alfred thought his brows slightly raised from amusement, the unexpectedly adorable new observation.

"Well, alright. It's wet and cold outside anyway." Arthur replied.

They walked inside, taking in the warmth. The smell of Christmas candle lingered.

"You use Christmas candle?" Alfred blurted out.

"Yes?" Arthur took off his shoes and stepped inside.

"You take off shoes?" Alfred asked, clearly amazed at how clean the apartment looked, despite the shabby look from the outside.

"This is my flat, you goof. Take off those wet dirty shoes." he raised his voice, putting the tan coat on the hanger.

Alfred pouted his lips, but obeyed Arthur's word anyway.

"Man, wooden floor sure is cold!" Alfred walked across the living room in his socks and sat down at the sofa, making himself at home. "So, Arthur! You have a girl somewhere?"

"What? Why do you ask? Don't tell me this is what you wanted to ask when you said we needed to talk." Arthur with an absurd face as he loosen his tie.

"Your place is too tidy for a guy." Alfred smirked.

"I'm single for god's sake." Arthur walked back to the kitchen for some tea.

"That explains why you've got nothing to do on the holidays." Alfred proudly deducted. "Am I right though?"

Arthur let out a slight chuckle, then put a cup of hot tea on the table in front of Alfred. "Maybe." he said. "You ask such strange questions."

"Maybe. But if you think about it, what kind of conversation do people ever hold?"

"I don't know. The weather?" Arthur said with a tad bit of sarcasm. Where is Alfred trying to go with this?

"You and your weather! What do you talk about with your buddies, Arthur?" Alfred protested.

"Why should you care?" Arthur said as he took a sip. "We just talk. About things. Things that goes on in our lives."

"You know, when I think back, I feel kinda sad that the kind of things people talk about are… mostly just stupid empty words. We talk just to know that we are talking and having the momentary little uplift it gives us. From all kind of topics. Money, our job, how our day's going, pets, movies, books, the future, our private life… It all just seems really pointless to me." Alfred suddenly went on a rant.

"Yes?" Arthur sat up a bit. Alfred seems to be seriously trying to discuss it.

"But that's all we have." Alfred said, and took the cup of tea. "That's what we do, to get to know each other better."

"Yes, I guess."

"You know, that have been bothering me since forever, and I finally snapped this morning being on Facebook. So I deleted my account." he looked up from the cup of tea and grinned.

"You what?" Arthur spluttered. How is this relevant to anything he was talking about?

"I decided that I could cut back the nonsense craps about other people's lives that's there and floating around on Facebook for everyone to see, even if they want or do not want to get to know other people. "

Alfred sat back. And the many posts resurfaced his mind. The prayers. The kind messages. Most of them, from people he have never met, let alone know. Why is it such a big deal to them? It can't be that Alfred was the only one to see that, aside of all that attention, all he wanted was some peace. To be alone. It might be a very pessimistic of a thought, but sometimes, it crossed Alfred's mind that people just care much more for the end of a cancer patient's life than just any other normal human beings out there.

"Exactly. The very reason I didn't dabble into social networking." Arthur nodded.

There is no way Arthur could understand the depth of Alfred's ambiguous words. They both knew.

Suddenly, Arthur's cellphone rang.

"Excuse me." he said, as he stood up to go get his phone that was still in his coat's pocket on the hanger. Allistor had called him again. Should he... pick up?

"Allistor? What's wrong?"

A slightly hoarse voice vibrated from the other side.

"What's wrong?" Is that all you have to say? Why didn't you pick up this morning, you cunt?"

"What the bloody hell are you talking about? It was 5 in the morning. You expect me to be awake and ready for your call." Arthur said coldly.

"You and that little sarcastic mouth of yours. That's what I always hated about you! Can't you just not talk back for a sec?" Allistor spat. He sounded not himself. But what does the normal Allistor even sound like? Arthur can't remember.

"Why are you calling me even?" he said, agitated.

"Why does it matter, huh? I shouldn't have called you in the first place. Wait 'til Mum come knocking on your door. You'll find out, then." he said curtly, then cut off the phone.

What on earth was he blabbering about? What about Mum? Arthur had a bad feeling about this.

He put the phone in his shirt's pocket and sat down at the sofa again.

"Sorry I eavesdropped... You okay?" Alfred asked nervously.

"I'm fine. Just... my brother." Arthur sighed. "I think he's drunk. None of what he said made any sense."

"Oh." Alfred said. Mattie has never been drunk except on maple syrup a few time. Maybe it's more appropriate to say he got high. Then he just wander around the house hugging people and falling asleep like a log anywhere.

"Do you guys... not get along?"

"We haven't talk in years. I don't know what his problem is now." Arthur said, biting on his lower lips.

Then the cell phone chimed again. This time, it was someone else. Arthur picked up reluctantly, looking at the caller's name.

"Hey Arthur." A softer voice came from the other side of the phone.

"Dylan." Arthur said with bitterness from the top of his tongue.

"Did Allistor call you yet?"

"Just now, yes."

"Well, you don't have to worry. I've got everything situated. Mum will be at my place."

"What is going on? Explain to me. Allistor didn't say anything and just cut me off."

"Oh. I shouldn't have mention it then. Mum's back from Ireland. She's divorced again..."

"And why should that matter, to any of us?" Arthur asked in a simply frustrated voice.

"Well, she needed a place to stay. Our old house is gone. She managed to contact Allistor, but you know him... He didn't even considered it. So she came to me."

"And so you put her up with a place to stay." Arthur finished it for him with a mocking tone.

"She's our mother, for god's sake, Arthur!" Dylan shouted over the phone.

"No, she is not. Not anymore!" Arthur shouted back, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Think of it what you may, you obstinate fool!" Dylan said in frustration, then ended the call.

Arthur let out a heavy sigh as he threw the phone on the sofa.

Alfred sat still, looking at the exhausted English man.

"Sorry Alfred. I need a shower." Arthur looked sideway, away from the American. He felt like shit. "Feel free to leave."

"It's alright. I'll wait." Alfred nodded understandingly.

"... Do what you want." Arthur said almost coldly without looking back.

* * *

><p>Arthur got out of the shower about 10 minutes later. It seemed that the American didn't leave after all. Instead, Alfred had fallen asleep on Arthur's sofa. Arthur smiled sadly at the boy and went to make some breakfast out of the bread he had just bought this morning. He hesitated. Alfred understood, though. He understood that Arthur was in no mind to tell him anything just then. Still, are they close enough for Arthur to share something so personal?<p>

When he was done with the toasts, he almost hesitated to wake Alfred. It had been just on a whim that they started talking about such personal things when they did, and now that Arthur think about it, he knew absolutely nothing about Alfred's life, except for his dad's funeral, legal papers concerning him… his strange family, his age, his sleeplessness. He knew some things. Alfred had said that he hadn't been able to sleep lately. It's strange that Alfred had become part of Arthur's life in such a short amount of time. But even more strange, how is Arthur able to recall every little thing Alfred had said?

Without Arthur's help, Alfred had woken up by himself.

"Whoa, how long have I been asleep?" Alfred sat up, still half asleep.

"Just about 15 minutes. I was going to wake you for breakfast." Alfred said.

"Sweet!" Alfred laughed and walked around the kitchen counter. "You can have some of my chocolate cake for dessert if you want!"

"Thank you. The dishes and utensils are in the dishwasher, if you wanted a separate dish. Feel free to use anything." Arthur sat down at the sofa with his dish of strawberry jam toast and a cup of milk.

Alfred quickly got his chunky peanut butter toast and a piece of the chocolate cake, together with some milk.

They ate in silence for a while. Then Arthur finished his toast and went to get some cake.

"I told you a bit about my family, right?" Arthur began.

"Yeah… about your parents." Alfred said with a bit of awkwardness. It's really kinda a bad topic, but sadly, it's one of those few things they've actually talked about...

"Well, my parents divorced, and went different ways. My dad stayed at the old house, while mum, disowned by her parents and her side of relatives, moved in together with her boyfriend for a while. They couldn't just stay in our small town because... you know how people and words are... So they moved to the guy's hometown in Ireland." Arthur said, his face solemn.

"My brothers just called me to say that she's divorced again, and so she came back to England."

"Did she want to see you?"

"I don't know. She went to Allistor's and Dylan's place so far." Arthur sighed, brushing the hair up and out of his face with one hand. Then he just left his palm on his face.

"Allistor is my second brother. Dylan is third. I'm the youngest."

"What about your eldest brother?" Alfred asked.

"Seamus. We never saw him again after he found out Mum and Dad was really divorcing."

"You family sucks, Arthur. I don't know what to say." Alfred confessed. Arthur family was even more complicated than Alfred's.

"It's okay, you don't have to say anything."

"Are you still mad at your Mom?"

Arthur didn't answer at first. Of course he is. How could he not be. She didn't even consider her children when she left with the other man, and the little girl that was about his age. How was she able to do such a cruel thing to them.

"Yes."

Alfred didn't speak. He thought about his father. The man that left them.

"I think you should have a talk with her at least. Find out how and why she left." Alfred said finally.

"Why? I don't need-" Arthur said, his anger rising, when he looked at Alfred again, and his words faltered.

"Do talk to her. Better, talk to your brothers first." Alfred smiled sadly at him. "When I was, ya know, down... Mattie was the only one to keep me on my feet."

"I know." Arthur grunted. He knew without Alfred telling him. He needed to have a good talk with his siblings, without alcohol, without stubbornness, without starting a fight after 15 minutes of arguing. "It's just like 7 years ago. Stuffs from a lifetime ago, dug up again."

"You look pale. C'mere." Alfred laughed, then walked over to Arthur's side and got down on his knee to give him a hug. Arthur looked like he was about to break.

"Thanks." Arthur replied, though the gesture was somewhat sudden.

"I know how you feel. I'm here if you need someone to talk to." Alfred said in his most quiet voice. "In fact, give me your number."

"Okay." Arthur said, getting his phone from the sofa. "Oh, I almost forgot. What did you wanted to talk about? I know it's not a good time, but you was about to say something."

"Me? ...Nah. I was just screwing around." Alfred grinned at Arthur.

Arthur sighed at the idiot in front of him. Where did the understanding and matured Alfred go.

Alfred paused a bit, holding the two phones.

"I was just… You know, when we met for the first time, as two people who didn't know anything about the other, just talk about meaningless things... why was it, that your story seemed so intriguing to me? Just a thought." Alfred said, telling himself that his entire intention, was just to throw Arthur off his pace. There's no way he was expecting an answer, an honest answer.

Arthur didn't know how to reply to this question, of course. What is it that Alfred wanted? What is he looking for?

"I don't think I can give you an answer, Alfred. That's something for you to figure out."

"Haha, right? I'm just... this is so weird." Alfred said, his cheek slightly red. The overwhelming silence. The heater running. The slightly stuffy air.

"Also, I was drunk off my boat. What were we even talking about that day?"

(to be continued...)

* * *

><p><em>AN: I'm a horrible person I know. Almost one year o-o;; I have no excuse..._

_I'd like to publicly apologize personally to each and every one of you._

_Then again, after this eternal writer's block, I've finally figured out the plot I want. _

_You'll hear from me. I'm still alive and currently doing a little wiggly dance! /shot_

_Happy New Year!_


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